The Crisp of Spring
by aspentree11
Summary: After Jurian offers to help Tamlin rebuild his court preceding the war, Tamlin finds that being a High Lord is more than just ruling - it's about changing too. Or at least, that's what he thought until an old friend shows up at his doorstep. (After ACOWAR)
1. Chapter 1

Numb. That's all I could feel. Numbness. The paper, now crumbled and nothing more than trash, fell down my lap and rolled against my foot. Sighing, I leaned back in my wooden chair and digested the room around me. Or at least, all that was left.

If my old study wasn't trashed before, this one certainly was. Holes, everywhere. In the desk in front of me, in the paintings, through the walls. Beside me, I noticed a smashed vase – my mother's favorite vase. A voice inside me said that I did it– I hit and clawed and yanked and abused this house until I could see from the other side. I had no recollection – no remembrance of that day. That day they left. But I saw it. I saw it everywhere. It wasn't the only damage left either - doors were torn off and I was yet to see a window not broken. I didn't remember the servants running out and fleeing, or looking at the smug look that was probably plastered on Hybern's face. But I could piece together the memories just by looking around the mess I had left. And a part of me felt like I couldn't face this. I couldn't look at my mistakes, my past, every day. Thankfully, people have finally began returning to the villages, relieving some of my stress. Now, at least my kingdom was fixable. But as I looked down at the crumbled paper resting against my foot, I knew it wasn't enough.

 _Thank you._

 _I hope you have happiness too._

And I thought that would be happiness for me – her, shriveled on the ground at my disposal, and Rhysand dead. But apparently not.

"Apparently not," I said aloud, rubbing my forehead. My eyes were heavy, but there was no way I could sleep. How could I? Everything was gone, I thought as I dug my head in my hands. My friend, my lover, my court. This, and this broken house, was all I had left.

"Ah, are you still wallowing over that letter Fox-Boy gave to you during his mediocre apology? Pretty morbid, I think, rubbing a man's heartbreak right in his face and then darting away to meet his happily ever two seconds later." _Crunch._ I looked up slowly, eyeing the figure in front of me. He was leaning against the half broken door casually as he flaunted the piece of fruit.

"Where did you get that?" I asked coldly, my eyes narrowing on the apple. My fingers gripped the half-broken desk as I leaned forward, causing it groan. "Did you take that from one of the cartons of fruit I was sending out to the villages?" He shrugged lazily, rolling his eyes as he did so.

"Nobody seemed keen to it," He responded. "Also, you do know that the sink in the kitchen is broken? I-"

"Jurian, are you getting your painting or not?" I had meant for it to come out snappily but the words merely hung out in the air limply, as if the life inside me was truly gone. "Don't you have a court to go to? Somewhere to be?" Ah, yes, Jurian. This morning I had heard a knock at the door, him waiting on the other side. When I demanded an explanation, he began rasping about some painting he had left in one of the guestrooms. I was too empty, too broken, to decline. He had told me he would leave immediately after he retrieved it. Though, looking back on it, I'm not sure why he would bother to come back for a mediocre painting in the first place.

Jurian's shoulder slumped forward, biting into the apple again.

"Firstly, it was a sketch," Jurian said as he walked towards me and rested his hands on the broken desk. "Secondly, this place is a fucking mess. And this time you don't have Feyre Cursebreaker to fix it." A pang hit my gut when he said – when he said _her_ name. And maybe he saw that, because almost instantly he leaned off the desk, the smug look washing off his face. He was quiet for a moment as he looked me over twice, something I had never seen fill his eyes. No, it wasn't pity, nor sympathy. Desperation flickered, it seemed.

"I have nowhere to go," Jurian admitted quietly, his voice breaking at the end. "I-I could go help Vassa but I… _You_ need an emissary, now that that Fox-Boy-"

"Lucien."

"Right, _Lucien_ , is gone," Jurian said. "I could be that, at least for now. Until this place actually looks relatively livable." My eyes narrowed on him suspiciously. Carefully, steadily, I rose from my chair and stepped around the desk to face him.

"You were an undercover agent for majority of the time that I knew you," I said coolly, "Why should I even let you spend the night?" He stepped closer to me this time as well, his eyes shining.

"Because it's better than being alone," He pointed out. I was quiet for a moment. Anger was building inside of me, begging to be left out. How dare he mock me while he was the one so vulnerable? But I pushed it down. I couldn't be that person. I didn't have the energy to be that person anymore.

"Fine," I sneered. "If you want to help, you could start with actually sending out the fruit. Also, I'm going to need letters to be sent about employment. I…we need some sentries in here. And some servants."

"Of course, My Lord," Jurian said sarcastically but I could swear, just as he walked out of the room, that there was a sparkle of glee in his eyes.

(three dashes here)

It was shining outside. It was actually shining. I scanned the outdoors in awe. When the war began, everything in my court died. The trees, the leaves, the flowers. The sun even seemed like it had dimmed – as if its life source really did run off of me. Of course, it didn't help that when Feyre and Lucien left, I fled from my castle to go after them and the few times I went back to the estate, I knew I would not stay long. But now I was here and it was shining.

"Are you going hunting today, my lord?" A voice behind me chimed. I turned around, facing the new servant. She was the first one to be employed in my castle again and she wasn't a day over seventeen. At first she seemed timid in working here but now she seemed as if working here was a luxury. I decided, after I hired her, that I was going to do it different this time. I wanted to actually know the people I worked with, the people who were willing to die for me. I wanted to know their names and their lovers and their families. I wanted them to be my family, just like the Night Court. I didn't want them to be silent.

"Not today. I'm going to let the villagers have their chance to hunt for some food," I told her, "Though, it would be great if you could get Jurian to go. I don't need his griping this morning." I could tell by the way her lip twitched that she was trying not to laugh.

"He hunted this morning, my lord," She told me. "But-" And then I heard his voice, screaming from the end of the hall.

"Tamlin!" He shouted. I rolled my eyes.

"Tam! _Tam_!"

"What did I say about you calling me that?" I snarled back. He came into view, a smirk on his lips. Jurian was different than Lucien in many ways. Firstly, he didn't care for any sort of rules whatsoever, unless he gained something from it. He had no concern for social boundaries, orders or a sense of code. Secondly, he wasn't afraid to test me. More specifically, he wasn't afraid of me at _all_. At first it was infuriating but through time I realized I did not want another emissary who was afraid of me. I wanted one who would argue with me, who would stop me before I made the mistakes I once had. Except, unfortunately, Jurian many times took it too far.

"It's the only way I can get your attention," He said, smirking. "I got a message from Helion-"

"Helion?" I said back, taking a step towards him. "The battle was weeks ago. What does he want?" Jurian shrugged casually, rolling his eyes.

"Don't ask me. I always thought he was a bit of a-"

"Jurian, what does it say?"

"Apparently he wants to have dinner with you," Jurian muttered. My eyebrows scrunched down.

"And why would he ever want that?" I replied sharply.

"Don't ask me how High Lords think. There's a reason why I'd rather be an emissary than a High Lord."

"At least humor me, Jurian," I growled.

"Maybe it's because you have refused to respond to any other courts since the battle and saying as you and I both are known for our, ah, double siding history, that maybe we should finally indulge in his offering?" I waved my hand at him dismissively.

"Just tell him I have no interest in speaking to other courts right now," I said. Jurian sighed.

"I'll tell him you're busy," Jurian decided, and then swaggered out of the room as if he had never walked in.

(three dashes here)

My fingers were shaking. I tried to hide it by tapping on the arm of the throne, but the nearest sentry, Jon, glanced back at me every time my fingers hit the wood arm. Jurian, who loomed over my throne impatiently with his hands shoved into his pockets, looked unusually bored.

"What is it, Jurian?" I said tightly. He looked down at me, an eyebrow perched up.

"Hm?"

"You want to say something. Let it out," I hissed. People were starting to gather, I realized. It was only minutes before this would begin. It would be smart for Jurian to get it out now.

"I think it's too early," Jurian said under his breath. "Nobody has the money or resources, Tamlin. Not even us." I tilted my head to the side, just enough for him to realize that I disagreed.

"The tithe is not near as much as it normally is," I countered, "And the tithe will bring the land together. It'll remind them that these gifts are an act of patriotism, a symbol that our territory is-"

"Absolutely foolish," Jurian finished. "It's autocratic. Now that they have heard of the great-" Jurian stopped for just a split second, just long enough for me to realize that the words coming were not the words I wanted to hear. "The High Lord of Night and his sacred city of Velaris would never do this, especially if the city was in deprivation." My eyes, cold as ice, glared at Julian, along with a low snarl.

"Don't you ever bring up the Night Court in my-"

"I'm not threatening you, Tamlin," he said, just as coolly, "Just warning you. But you do whatever you want to do, Tamlin. It's your land that's starving, not anybody else's." Before I could reply, the first participant stepped forward. I leaned back in my chair and Jurian looked forward. My hands gripping the arm, I analyzed the participant.

It was a water wraith. A very, very familiar water wraith. While the water wraith's face was cold as stone, I knew that the water wraith was thinking about the same exact thing based upon the twinkle in her eyes. Her body was stiff, straight as a line. No, she did not look afraid, but she did reflect a look that showed she did not trust me. Her arms were abnormally skinny for kind and she did not look like she expected anything from me. Especially not patriotism.

"We've met before," I said, breaking the tense silence. She didn't even bother to address me properly.

"Yes, we have," she simply said. I looked at the basket in her hand. Slowly, she unraveled it.

"A fish," she said, "For our High Lord." A fish. Only one. I looked at my emissary, and his eyes were flickering. I turned back to the water-wraith.

"No more than one?" I asked tightly. Her lips thinned.

"The War was costly even on us, my lord," She said. "We brought all we could spare." And as I stood there, starring at her, nobody made a sound. I glanced at my sentries who hadn't even let out a breath. My eyes dropped to the fish again.

"No," I replied. She blinked at me, this time taking a desperate step towards me.

"My Lord-"

"Keep it," I said, with my palm facing her. "My sentries will come by your pond tomorrow and give you some resources in order to help your sisters from starving." The water wraith's posture softened. Though the lack of trust in her eyes did not fade, she looked calmer.

"We won't forget this gratitude," She whispered. From the corner of my eye, I could swear Jurian was fighting a smile.

Without leaning towards him, I whispered, "Make it known to our visitors that the Tithe will not be occurring today. Instead, I will be giving out resources for their brave acts during the war."

(three dashes here)

"So you're just not going to show up at all? The Great Rite?"

"I never said that," I replied dryly. "I just said I wasn't going to-" My voice stopped and I swallowed. Julian, with his hands shoved in his pockets, fumed at me. "I'm just not participating in the ceremony itself, that's all."

"You've got to be fucking kidding," He murmured, laughing under his breath. "Seriously? _Seriously_?" I eyed him coldly. Breathe, a voice inside me said, breathe.

"I'm a High Lord," I reminded him sternly. "I can do whatever I please."

"Yes, the High Lord of _Spring_. In which the Great Rite is honoring. I don't care what happened last year – I am not Lucien. There is no way I'm going to let you bail out on that ceremony." I rose from my chair.

"Don't push me, Jurian."

"If you think I'm participating for you, you're out of your mind."

"I never asked you to," I snarled. He opened his mouth, a cold, mirthless smile on his face, and I was sure the next remark would send me over the edge, but then we heard a knock. His smile faltered and my back loosened.

"Esmeralda, who is that?" I shouted. Jurian's eyes still held onto mine. I heard a door open, an unusual freeze filling the house quickly. After about five seconds of silence of shouted, sharply now, "Esmeralda, who _is_ it?"

"I-I think you should come to the door, My Lord," Her voice cracked. I growled under my breath, my eyes glaring at Jurian. His eyebrows flickered up testily. I tore away from his gaze and began walking towards the door. Jurian, as he did when he was angry, followed me.

"Can you at least think about it?" Jurian hissed, as we turned the corner into a hallway. I glanced back at him.

"No, I will not think about it. I know what I want," I hissed back. At the end of the hallway, one of the double doors was wide open. I looked at Esmeralda's large eyes, and she looked uncomfortable. Uneasy.

"Is that what you told Lucien last year when-" And then, as I looked at through doorway, brushing Esmeralda aside, Jurian's voice stopped. I didn't even finish letting out my breath. My eyes, unblinking, stared at the person in front of me. I felt like I couldn't move my lips, my face was turned to stone.

"Hi, Tam," The opposing voice let out. Jurian cursed behind me.

"Hello, Lucien," I heard myself say. To my demise, he didn't look much different than the last time I had seen him. He was wearing a purple tunic, with dark pants and hiking boots. His red hair was tied back, with a few strands falling out. His eyes, shining with nervousness, looked me over. I couldn't help but stare at his necklace – black obsidian. He was still a part of the Night Court.

My eyes tore away from him and looked down at the girl beside him. She was much shorter – almost looked like a child compared to Lucien's large self. She was dressed in black, giving me a small smile. There was nothing uneasy in her eyes, no fear. Instead, she was holding a small flower at her side. She held it out to me. Automatically, as if I couldn't control my own body, I took the small flower. I looked at the flower and then looked back at her.

"I found this a few miles back," She said. "I just wanted to-"

"You're Feyre's sister," I said aloud. Almost instantly, Lucien scrunched back, his arms tightening around the girl.

"Her name is Elain," He said, his voice harder. "And we were wondering-"

"Did the Night Court kick you out so easily?" Jurian sneered behind me. His tone made me blink rapidly. Since when did he have issues with the Night Court? Lucien's metal eye narrowed on Jurian coldly but before Lucien could retort with a remark that would make Jurian go spiraling, I held out my hand to silence my present emissary.

"Excuse my new emissary, he is still learning the art of communication," I said, glancing behind me and shooting Jurian a warningly look. The last thing I needed was to appear weak in front of my former friend. "But I'm not going to stop him for being suspicious. I may be on…neutral terms with the Night Court, but that does not mean I'm interested in a new alliance. Especially without even sending a letter first." My eyes dropped back at the girl. This must have been his mate, I remembered suddenly. But the last time I checked, there were rumors that she was with the shadowsinger. Of course, that was months ago.

"We're here for personal reasons," Lucien replied. One of my eyebrows perked up, slightly interested.

"And why would you need my help? Especially on a day like this where I'm supposed to be preparing for Calanmai?" I asked coolly, ignoring Jurian's huff. Lucien looked at me and then look at his mate. To my surprise, she stepped forward.

"I had a vision," she said. "That you would need us."

 **I apologize if this seems rushed or a bit rough. I'm still trying to figure out how I'm going to portray Jurian and Tamlin because my proposition is that they've changed throughout the weeks preceding after the war. If you're interested in another chapters, review!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Go on, sit." After the girl's, Elain's, disturbing comment, I had decided to welcome them into my home reluctantly. If they were sitting in my home, dining with me, I could see them. I could analyze them. I had the control I wanted.

My eyes didn't fall away from the girl. I could still feel Lucien's eyes nailed on me, waiting for me to strike. Clearly, something was flashing into his mind that I had probably blacked out. They sat next to each other of course, exactly across from me. Jurian loomed over me, his hands clamped together behind his back and pacing annoyingly. A part of me wanted to snarl at him to be good and sit, but I did not want the couple to think that I was weak – that my emissary was defiant. This was my home and I would defend it.

"Uh, thank you," Lucien said, sinking into his chair anxiously. His eyes kept darting around, trying to find some proof that this place had once been in shreds, but clearly he hadn't found a single flaw. Elain sat upright, smiling brightly as she looked at the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her in glee. Lucien's eyes, though trying to stay on me the best he could, kept flickering towards her. Every time she breathed he couldn't help but look at her.

"You were saying?" I said dryly to the girl. She looked back at me, blinking.

"Oh, yes!" She said. "I had a dream." My elbow was plastered onto the arm of the chair as I leaned half of my face into my hand impatiently.

"You came all the way from the Night Court to tell me you had a…dream?" I repeated. Lucien sat up, his mouth open.

"She's a seer, Tam, which is why-"

"Your shadowsinger wants to bang her," Jurian finished under his breath. All of us, all at once, whipped our heads towards him. I looked back at Lucien and Elain. Elain had turned pink and looked down at her lap, as if in shame, and Lucien – his face was blood red. His hands, I saw, were shaking. He looked like he was about to lunge at Jurian, and Jurian looked like he wanted him to. I gave a light laugh.

"My Emissary is merely joking," I said, not without throwing Jurian an icy look, "Now what did this dream say, girl?" Lucien face had loosened but it was still flushed with redness and his eyes were yet to tear away from Jurian's snake-like smirk. Elain had finally looked up at me again, her eyes twinkling.

"It said Eris was coming," Elain said. My eyebrows rose slowly, and Jurian had stopped smiling. Lucien swallowed at looked at me.

"And why would Eris come here?" I asked slowly. Lucien looked baffled and Elain merely blinked. My eyes quickly ran to Jurian, who looked just as, if not more, confused about their surprising reactions. I slowly looked away and faced my two visitors once again.

"Have you not heard anything? You honestly didn't know?" Lucien gaped. I leaned back in my chair tightly, swallowing.

"I have…limited contact with other kingdoms in order to put my full attention to the Spring Court," I said. "It was for our best interest." Lucien's eyes widened, his mouth slightly ajar. He blinked once.

"Eris is High Lord of the Autumn Court," Lucien said finally, "He killed my father in the middle of the night two weeks ago." And then, just like that, I couldn't breathe. Nothing in the room moved for a moment – even the birds outside stopped singing, as if they knew as well how bad this was. All I could do was look at Lucien, unsure how to even reply. For the first time, I saw the bags that hovered under his eyes and his skin, other than his face, did look unusually white. He looked skinnier than usual and I could only imagine the fear running through him.

And then Jurian, my wonderful Emissary, began laughing. And not even lightly – his cackles erupted through the room like an avalanche, cold and cruel like the Jurian I had once known years and years ago. And despite his heroic actions, he had always been difficult, possibly something he had adopted from the Illyarians during the first war. And maybe, just maybe, being trapped on Amarantha's neck _had_ made a part of him go mad. Lucien, I saw, clenched at the arms on his chairs until his knuckles became dead white.

"What is so funny?" Lucien clipped each word slowly. Elain's eyes were on Lucien, her hand already on top of his arm. Jurian stepped closer to the table, his eyes shining.

"You let your older brother slaughter your father like a butcher and then you actually have the audacity to run over to Tamlin so that he'll save you," Jurian snarled with a mirthless smile. "I am honestly curious now, why aren't you with the Night Court? Why come here?" My eyes analyzed Jurian for a moment and then I whipped my head towards Lucien with one eyebrow raised. _He has a point_ , I thought.

"Rhysand had made good relations with Eris during the battle," Lucien muttered, and I swear I could hear a hint of anger in his voice, "and I am not a threat to Eris's crown. Eris and I are…we are fine." My eyes narrowed on him.

"So what then? Why are you even here, Lucien?" I said coolly. "I- _We_ are perfectly fine here. Let Eris come. We'll welcome him with open arms because he is, and will be for a very long time, the High Lord of the Autumn Court and I will not deny his right to the throne just because he is unlikeable. I'm not going to ostracize a man for taking the throne nearly the same way I had." Lucien's face, once full of emotion, dropped entirely. His metal eye swirled to look closer at me. I had never talked about that night – that moment I had decided to pick a fight with the Night Court and inevitably, and possibly unfairly, inherited the crown of the Spring Court.

But this time, Elain spoke.

"Eris will see you as a friend," Elain told me, her tone hard. "Eris will be a better High Lord than his father was and Eris will let his mother go. But you should know that the day after he was made High Lord, he slaughtered the rest of his brothers, aside from Lucien. And he left Lucien live for a reason." I rolled my eyes this time. This conversation was going on unendingly and I, without a doubt, did not care about the conflict at all.

"Then I suggest Lucien go back to the Night Court and sit quietly until this issue is forgotten," I told her. I looked at Lucien and said, "I cannot protect you. You are not a part of my court, and while I do not hold that against you anymore, it is not my job." His eye, the real one, had widened.

"Tam-" His voice broke when he said my name. I looked away coldly, incapable of holding his gaze. I couldn't do this again – this uneasy relationship between Lucien and me. It would be a circle forever.

"Come on, Elain," Lucien said quietly, getting out of the chair. I didn't look at him. "This was a lost cause-"

"Helion knows," Elain said suddenly. I jerked upward, looking at Elain again. My mouth suddenly went very dry. I looked at Jurian but Jurian only reflected a confused look.

"Knows…knows what exactly?" I asked slowly, though I already knew. A part of me – just by the way she said it, I already knew what she was going to say. Something I had kept from Lucien for years, not out of selfishness but because I honestly cared. I knew it would only make him angrier and only make him retaliate. There was no good reason for him to know, it wouldn't have helped anything.

"Helion has recently been told by the new High Lord that Lucien is his – and his only - heir," Elain said, "And Helion...hasn't been feeling his best lately." Desperation flickered in Lucien's eyes, sadness, despair. And even a bit of betrayal. I was quiet, very very quiet. Jurian's mouth was slightly ajar.

"You are…" Jurian didn't even want to say it. "You're his heir? But _how_?" Lucien bit his lip and held my gaze.

"I know you knew and I am not mad that you kept it from me. Not anymore, at least," Lucien said. "But Helion is going to be here soon." I blinked at him stupidly.

"Here? Helion will be here? At my court?" I asked snappily. Lucien nodded.

"He wanted to meet me here," Lucien said. "He wanted to meet me where…where I used to call home."

(three dashes here)

I couldn't hear it anymore. I hurriedly dismissed myself, told them they were allowed to stay for however long they needed, and rushed to my bedroom. At least there it was quiet. There was no distractions, no bad news. There, I did not worry about my kingdom. I didn't have to worry about anything. At least, until Jurian bursted in with a bang.

I sat upright when Jurian barged in, slamming the door behind him. My eyes narrowed on him.

"I'm resting," I growled. "Go bother someone else." But his hands were crossed against his chest stubbornly and his nostrils were flared.

"They unloaded all of their belongings and picked their damn rooms – two separate rooms, I must add, as if the servants have to clean up enough," Jurian ranted, "I swear, they're worse than those perverse twins." My eyes narrowed.

"Lucien and a tiny seer are as bad as Dagdan and Brannagh? The incestial twins that were trying to physically burn down my kingdom and take over the world with Hypbern?" I asked, my eyebrows raised. I scooted myself to the edge of the bed, looking at Jurian with a tight gaze. He huffed at the comment.

"Don't be so melodramatic, Tamlin. I'm just saying they're acting a bit suspicious, that's all," Jurian said. I rolled my eyes at him, fighting a smirk.

"Honestly, Jurian, who cares?" I asked. "Lucien has visited me once after the war had ended, he won't do any harm." Jurian took a step towards me, his arms at his side.

"Because of him, Helion is strutting-"

"Helion will come over here whether Lucien is here or not," I said plainly. "Plus, you're right. I believe I need to start being more open to communication between high lords, remember? I wasn't before the war, and that is what caused so many issues. It's good, whether I like him or not, to be in neutral terms." Jurian gaped at me impatiently, shaking his head as if he could barely comprehend what I was saying.

"You're here to tell me that-"

"Why do you care, Jurian?" I asked sharply. His mouth closed. "Please, do tell." His nose flared.

"I care because your sneaky traitorous ex-emissary walks into this place like it's his home and then decides-" And then it hit me. I jumped to my feet, a small smile on my lips. He took a step back, his lips pursed.

"You're jealous," I said aloud, my smirk widening. "You're afraid Lucien is going to take your position." He took a cold step towards me.

"I am not," he said, scowling, "I'm just saying that…" And he couldn't finish his sentence. Instead, he stared and stared at me. Jurian was highly unreadable at times, but this was not one. He wanted him out, of course, but I could tell that it was something personal.

My eyebrows rose.

"You're just saying?" I asked, tilting my head. He rolled his eyes.

"I better see you tonight," He grumbled, turning away and passing through the doorway. He shot me one last look before slamming the door closed.

(three dashes here)

The drums were thumping. The sun was about to drop and I hadn't heard a word from anyone since Jurian had left – not any of my servants, not of my two guests, nobody. It was as if everybody in the Spring Court had quietened, waiting for my decision of whether or not I would attend. Attending was a no brainer – of course I would attend. But would I participate? There was quite a difference.

Firstly, since the war ended, I came to wonder if the ritual was even fully true. Lords have been doing it for so many generations that I could not think of a time that a Lord, at least in the Spring Court, did not participate without having a substitute. Was it true that my lands would be less plentiful if I did not participate without a substitute or is it merely a spiritual tradition that none of my ancestors dared to test? The bodily effects was clearly true, as I had endured it more times than I could count, but how did _that_ replenish my land? I could only imagine Jurian's response to my argument.

Secondly, my lands had already replenished three times the amount that my lands usually do, even with the ritual. Of course, if the tradition is true, than the result would be phenomenal, but is it necessary? Both the war and Amarantha had made it so that participating in The Rite was a necessity. My lands could barely grow anything without the magic I created through Calanmai, but now Calanmai wasn't needed.

"You're going to attend," A voice said. I had made my way down the stairs to consult my ideas with Jurian, but Lucien was at the bottom step. I halted, holding his gaze for a moment. My back straightened. His words were neither a question nor a demand, but a statement as he looked over me.

"I am…going, yes," I said carefully. "And are you participating?" His face tightened at this.

"Why would I ever-"

"This would be her first rite ever, correct? She wasn't Fae during the first one?" I asked. His face began to flush. "When mates perform the ritual, and it's their first rite as mates, the effects are strong. You both would have great-"

"I know, Tamlin," Lucien snapped. His eyes fell to the ground. "I would rather not interact with Elain while I'm going through the effects of Calanmai." I almost flinched back. Because of Lucien's royalty, he too felt some of the hungry effects of Calanmai, just not as much as a true High Lord. I never realized how that changed him, though. As a High Lord, under the influence of the ritual was like feeling as if every part of you was alive, like every part of your body was remaking itself in the most glorious way, but Lucien probably only felt the urges. The shameful needs. He probably did not feel the release that made it so worth it.

"So what are you going to do then?" I heard myself ask cruelly. "Lock yourself in a room? Lock _her_ in a room?" He swallowed. Clearly, he saw the parallel now. I had tried locking Feyre in a room, and actions like that were what made me a monster in Lucien's eyes. _You are no better than me_ , I was tempted to add.

"You want my advice?" I asked, stepping down the stairs fully and facing him. "Let her go to the ceremony if she wants. Let her see what we are afraid to accept. Stop living in fear that anything out there is any worse than anything in here." His eyes held mine harshly. Even his metal eye did not twitch.

"I wasn't asking for your advice," he said, and then walked around me coolly and stomped his way up the stairs.

(three dashes here)

The light was gone. The drumming was shaking me as a stood in the forest, overlooking the rave that had started before I arrived. I couldn't move. I couldn't take a single step. The music was beating inside me, making it feel like I was vibrating. I was fighting the feeling – the little feeling inside me that was starting to build up already. It was what would consume me tonight, whether or not I chose to participate. But not right now. I wanted at least a few more minutes before I forgot who I was.

"You have to," I heard a voice say behind me. I turned my head. Jurian had arrived. At first he seemed almost excited about the event – he had war painting on his shirtless body, something many combatants paraded during Calanmai to catch attention. But he too had an apprehensive look on his face. Not nervous, no, but as if he was watching from a million miles away.

"I wonder if Myriam and Drakon are celebrating tonight. On their own lands, in their own bed," Jurian said quietly. I turned away, incapable of meeting his eyes. Because if I did so, and I recognized the internal coldness that would forever be inside him despite his so-called forgiveness, I would feel the same. I didn't want to imagine Feyre in bed with Rhysand, not tonight. Not when there was a time when I fantasized about being with her during Calanmai, of imagining the millions of times that we could celebrate Calanmai together.

"I'll go first," I offered half-heartedly. He did not protest as I walked outside of the wooded darkness and towards the fire light. Most people didn't even notice me as I walked into the crowd – not that I expected them to. Though I was supposed to be the center entertainment, mostly everybody had an agenda. A few lesser faerie girls from the corner whispered excitedly when they saw me and then rushed to the nearby cave in hope that they would, tonight, be claimed. Majority of the time, girls would offer themselves in hope that the High Lord would turn out to be their mate and then the girl would be taken care of for the rest of her life. It has never worked.

"Tamlin," a cackly voice said. When I turned around, I couldn't help but straighten when I met eyes with the man opposite of me. His hair was a darker red than I remembered, I thought. His rapid eyes, amber, looked gold when the fire flickered off. Despite the heat, he wore a maroon velvet cloak over his tunic. In one hand he had a golden cup and the other he had a woman wrapped under his croak with her hand on the center of her chest.

"Hello Eris," I said back. The drumming that had been trembling between my bones had ceased. I felt solid, no longer having the lingering feeling of madness inside of me. I did not feel the rush of anger that overcame me when Eris came in view but I knew that anger had to surging inside me in order to pause the instinctual excitement that was beginning to stir inside me.

He gave a snaky smile, sipping his drink charismatically as he held my gaze.

"Aren't you going to congratulate me? For becoming High Lord?" He asked, clearly poking at me. Instantly, I reflected a smile that didn't quite meet my eyes.

"You'll find that the position is rather dull, Eris," I replied simply. He gave a short chuckle and I could have sworn that the large bon fire cackled with him.

"Maybe for you, Tamlin," he jeered, "but the Autumn Court has never been more alive." He looked down at the woman under him and I had to admit, the look of her took me by surprise. Her red hair was so dark that it was nearly black and her skin was so pale it nearly glowed. Unlike the other female faeries who were wearing mostly provocative clothes, she wore a red silk gown that went past her feet. The dress accentuated her chest greatly, not bothering to hide whatever she had to give, and the silk made it so that her hips were made to be an hour glass, but it was still elegant. Not fit for Calanmai. Certainly not Eris's type, who mostly favored girls who were already partially naked.

She clung to Eris as her dark almond eyes looked me over. There was something brilliant about this woman, I realized quickly. But did Eris see that?

"Then why are you here?" I asked, taking a step forward. "In the Spring Court? Without my permission or invitation?" And while Eris and I had never had a true face-to-face conversation, I could have sworn a part of him shrunk just a little bit.

"How's my brother?" He said after a beat. He tried keeping his smirk up but it was already broken. "I heard he is back here." One of my eyebrows rose.

"His whereabouts are none of your concern," I said coolly. "Why are you here, Eris?" His eyes darkened.

"I need to speak to him," Eris said. And I thought about it – beckoning Lucien out of the castle to speak with Eris. Because there was something, maybe not genuine, but truthful as he said it. I didn't see the mischievous look that had always flickered in his eyes when he was up to no good.

"My estate is not, despite what many may think, neutral ground," I snarled. "I won't get in the middle of your petty family problems, Eris." Eris's nose flared.

"You became the middle of our family problems when you took him in, Tamlin," he snarled back. I laughed at this.

"You were trying to murder your brother," I said to him slowly, "for simply falling in love with a lesser faerie." And then his face broke entirely, the anger vanishing. The girl that was tucked within his arm looked up at him curiously.

"It didn't happen like that," he said coldly, "You have no idea what happened that night. _He_ has no idea what happened that night." I was quiet for a moment, unsure what to say. I wasn't going to humanize Eris – he was awful. Horrid. He may be High Lord, and I may be willing to accept that, but Eris would always be less than spit on the ground in my opinion.

"Invite me to stay at your court for the next few days," Eris said – no, he was begging now. "Lucien is in grave danger."

(three dashes here)

So this was going on eight pages so I kinda wanted to stop it and see what people were thinking so far. I know I kinda ended it at a weird place but I'm still debating on where to bring it.


	3. Chapter 3

The wind was blowing past me as I sprinted through the forest. Everything seemed like a blur – the trees blended together dizzily and the screams from the other fae bleated in my ears like drums. I couldn't even feel myself anymore, like my body and mind were no longer attached. My whole body had gone numb as my legs rushed through the forest. I looked around jerkily, trying to concentrate on what I was supposed to do but, for some reason, the purpose kept evading me. _What was I looking for again?_ It was a…It was a person. No, I corrected myself sternly, an animal. I was looking for an animal. I wanted to slow down but my body wouldn't obey my mind. I'm looking for a doe, I said to myself, I'm looking for a doe.

Or was it a stag? A black stag? No, no, no. It was a white stag.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard Jurian's voice berating me, yelling at me to get it together so that I could continue to the second portion of the ceremony. Usually I would have lost myself by now, but I wouldn't let myself succumb to the hunter inside me. I didn't want to forget myself, to not feel myself.

"What are you doing?" And within a moment, the wind knocked out of my chest and my body stopped moving with a jolt. I turned around slowly and my whole body stiffened. She was there. Her silky black hair was in loose curls around her oval-shaped face and her cunning violet eyes were nailed on me like daggers. She was in Night attire – a long black dress that turned see-through when it hit her knees. It draped to the ground, tickling the leaves at her feet. My eyes rose back to her chest, noticing the deep plunge in her dress. Between her breasts, a fist-sized ruby sparkled back at me. It was like a sick joke, I thought.

"You…" I staggered back stupidly. She looked at me, tilting her head curiously.

"I've never heard you stutter, Tamlin," she whispered playfully, her red lips smirking. They were so addicting, I thought. They were so plump and charismatic, so terrifyingly beautiful. My chest rose up and down. My fingers were shaking at my side. Quickly, I tried grabbing at my weapon but as my fingers reached my belt, I noticed that my dagger had disappeared.

"You're not here," I said, swallowing. The words were falling out of my mouth desperately, more desperate than I had been in a long time. "What are you? Why are taking her figure? What did I do to you to deserve this? I demand you to tell me! _Now_!" Feyre would have been better, I thought suddenly. I would rather see Feyre in this forest taunting me then to see _her_.

"Who says I'm not here?" She asked, her violet eyes twinkling. "It was a blurry night, wasn't it, Tamlin? You don't even remember what happened." I growled, my fangs rippling out at her.

"I remember," I told her, though I choked on my words. "I remember exactly what happened that night. You won't trick me, beast." She laughed. Not a cool laugh that I had wished came out of her – an innocent laugh. A careful, thoughtful laugh. I had forgotten how it sounded in my ears, a weird pitch that reminded me of a string instrument. Like a song.

"It's been a weird day, hasn't it?" She said, taking a small step towards me. "First Lucien shows up at your door, an old friend. And then you hear that history is starting to unravel, that Lucien might take the throne. And was that Eris? I thought I saw him."

"You're just looking inside my head," I hissed. "Who sent you? Especially on a night like this? On a night of celebration?" Her smile dropped, a hint of pain reflecting back at me. She looked like I had slapped her.

"The Cauldron," she said softly, her voice a whisper. "The Cauldron sent me. I told you it'd bring me back. I told you it was going to be okay." I shook my head at her quickly. A lump was growing in my throat.

"Leave me alone!" I shouted, and as I released my claws, I lunged at her. She didn't even twitch as I flung towards her. She only rose her chin and tightened her gaze. But as soon as I touched her, as soon as my claws met her shoulder, my claws retracted. Her skin was sun-kissed and was smoother than I had remembered. My fingers draped there for a moment, indulging in her softness. If this was hell, I wanted it. I wanted all of it.

"How could the Cauldron have brought you back? Why now?" I murmured in a low voice, inhaling cinnamon scent radiating off her. I could feel myself growing closer to her, being pulled towards her. "Explain that to me." She didn't even blink.

"I don't know," her voice broke. "I just woke up here, Tam." It wasn't a good enough excuse, I thought. It didn't make any sense. But the night was growing later and the beast in me was still rising. It was a hallucination, I decided. Even though her skin felt so real and her lips were daring me to touch them, it had to be fake.

Yet I could feel myself long for her, just like I had longed for other girls, other maidens, in the past. She shivered as my hand went from her shoulder to her cheek, her face flushing with redness. My fingers tangled into her silky hair, running through the large curls and tucking them behind her ear. She giggled as I did so and she leaned closer to me. Her hand went to my bare chest, her thin fingers tracing across the paint that Jurian had smeared on me. Her fingers were cold. How could something that didn't exist be cold? It didn't make sense. How could her hips be pressed against my waist, her sweet breath tickling my mouth?

"Maybe it's Calanmai that brought me here," she breathed, desperation slipping into her voice as well. Her fingers were shaking when they reached my face. "Things are changing, Tamlin. You've felt it." And she wasn't wrong. The last twenty-four hours have been so bizarre, too much of a coincidence. And now she was here, her willowy figure grinding against mine, my lips nearly touching hers. My hand went to her chest, pressing against her heart. It was beating. Her heart was beating.

"If this is the last time I'll see you, if the Cauldron only gives me tonight, then make it worth it, Tam," she begged. And without even thinking about it, without even considering my options, I pressed her against the tree so hard that it shook. My lips found hers hungrily, barely breathing as I tried to feel every part of her. And as her moans filled my ears, I could feel my consciousness waning. Because, at that moment, the beast was let out.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"I can't believe you just fucking did that." My eyelids slowly fluttered open. At first all I could see was sunlight blinding me as I forced my eyes to widen, but as my vision started to sharpen, I recognized the looming figure above me. Jurian's body was blocking my vision, his face tight and his lips curled upward in a snarl.

"Where am I?" I mumbled lazily. It only took me a moment to realize I was back in my bedroom with the windows wide open, blinding me.

"You missed breakfast," Jurian said, a cold smile curling on his face. "You also missed the most important part of Calanmai." I tilted my head, confused.

"What?" I asked. He squinted at me impatiently.

"Is this why your kingdom sucks so badly? Does knowledge just escape you entirely?" He said coolly. My hand rose to my head. It was bleating.

"Jurian," I said warningly, a growl slipping from my throat. "I'm not in the mood. Tell me what happened."

"You forgot to kill the stag," Jurian replied dryly. I blinked at him.

"I forgot to kill the stag?" I repeated. Jurian's eyebrows rose as he nodded.

"Yes, you forgot to do the most important part of the ceremony," Jurian said slowly, as if I had absolutely lost my mind. "Instead, you decided to skip that very important step and find your _maiden_." And then my eyes widened. I propped myself onto my elbows, my breath shortening. As I tried to piece together what had happened, tried to understand the events I could barely recollect, Jurian went on.

"The one step you kept griping and crying that you weren't going to do was the only step you actually did do-"

I remembered seeing her, I remember speaking to her. I remembered shoving her against a thick tree and indulging in her.

"-and now every fae in the Spring Court is afraid that they won't get their crops this year-"

After that, I only remembered glimpses. I saw myself taking off her clothes urgently, I heard her moans ringing against the forest, I remembered the feeling of pulsing inside of her.

"-but good on you, Tam. I see you had fun based upon all the bite marks and scratches that are on your back. Do you understand how humiliating it was for me to tell people you didn't even have a weapon on you?" My eyes widened.

"Bite marks?" I asked breathlessly. "Scratches?" Jurian eyes nailed on me like daggers.

"You do know that I used to be a general right?" Jurian asked coolly. "I used to lead thousands of men into battle? And yet here I am, talking about your sex life." I jumped out of bed sharply, nearly knocking into him.

"Did you see anything last night?" I asked. "Did you see who…" I couldn't finish the sentence. The thought of her, the image of her, made me wince.

"The girl?" Jurian replied dryly. "No, I didn't. All I saw was you zombie-walking into your bedroom and moaning about how 'she' was back." I was quiet for a moment, my hands clenching into tight balls.

"Did you see a girl with dark hair?" I asked, this time calmer. "A willowy figure?" He held my gaze for a long moment but then put his head into his hand.

"I'm done, I'm absolutely fucking done," Jurian said tiredly. "Go put on some pants. Eris has already made half a dozen jokes about you and I just had to stop Lucien from attacking him. Helion is on his way, by the way. He'll be here any minute to talk about this situation." As Jurian stalked away, mumbling obscene words under his breath, I opened one of the drawers. As I picked out a pair of long pants, I tried to ignore the fact that my fingers were shaking. I slipped them on quickly and pulled on the nearest tunic available.

"Tell me, Elain," A voice purred from down the stairs. I sighed deeply, waiting for the words to pour out. "What do you see about my future? The Autumn Court?" There was a loud scuff.

"Don't flatter yourself, Eris, you wouldn't-"

"I was talking to Elain, Lucien," Eris cut him off quickly, with a hint of mockery in his voice, "Don't worry, you can wait your t-" And then Eris looked up at me. I was watching them from the doorway, curious as Elain slouched uncomfortably in her chair. Eris and Lucien were exactly across from each other, both of them leaning over the table. Eris had a cruel smile on his face while Lucien looked like he about to explode. But once Eris locked eyes with me, he lowered to his seat. Lucien flushed with redness when he saw me, scrambling back into his seat as well. But Elain seemed to loosen when she looked at me.

"My words were very clear, Eris," I said, my voice sharp as a knife, "I didn't give you an invitation." Eris shrugged a shoulder at me.

"I knocked and your emissary opened the door. What was I supposed to do? Refuse to walk in without your consent?" Eris asked. "Plus, I knew how busy you were last night. I didn't want to wake you." I held his gaze for a moment, unblinking. And then I did something impulsive – I pulled out a knife from my belt and whipped it at him so fast that Eris didn't even have time to take a breath before he caught it.

"I am a High Lord!" Eris roared as he rose from his chair, dropping the knife to the ground with a loud _clink_. "How dare you-"

"Are you done yet?" I asked, my eyebrows popped up. Eris's lips curled up with a scowl.

"What?" He snarled.

"Are you done acting like a child? Because frankly, I have a bleating headache and I have been dealing with High Lords like you for centuries and you know what? I'm tired of it," I said simply, and Eris's mouth was ajar. "Two wars and it's all because High Lords can't stop being children. This is why I stayed in my quiet estate for forty-nine years. This is why I ceased communication with the rest of the courts since the war ended. I'm not tolerating this obscene childish behavior, especially from the Court of Autumn of all places. So I'm going to ask you again, High Lord, _are you done yet_?" To my surprise, Eris was quiet. Lucien, I saw, was looking at me wildly.

"That was quite a speech," A voice rang, "though I'd like to add that the Day Court has gone through more shit than all of you put together. Especially from the Spring Court." I turned around and met eyes with Helion. He held his radiant aura as usual, contrasting against his dark skin. I looked him over twice before stretching out my hand. He clasped it and shook it tightly. And as I held his gaze, I could sense that there was something wrong with him. That they were right – the immortal High Lord of Day was sick. There were rings around his eyes, he was leaning on a wooden staff. His breaths, when he leaned closer, sounded harsher.

"It's been too soon, Tamlin," he said, a smirk on his lips that didn't quite meet his eyes. I forced a smile. He then turned towards the table, looking at all of them. It looked like he was going to say something, but nothing came out. Lucien, I noticed, was looking away awkwardly and Eris, to my surprise, had a tight expression on his face. Elain was the only one who seemed relatively welcoming so Helion walked over next to her and sat on her other side.

"Helion," he said, smiling brightly as he held out his hand to Elain, "High Lord of the Day Court. And you are?" Lucien swung his head towards him, his eyes cold.

"Elain," she replied in a sweet voice, shaking his hand, "Seer of the Night Court and Lucien's mate." Helion's smile instantly dropped and he pulled his arm away hastily. Jurian, who had sneakily walked into the room, stifled a laugh. As I shot Jurian a warningly look, I took a seat at the head of the table. Jurian stood behind me obediently.

For a moment, everybody was quite. Helion was looking to the corner of the room awkwardly, trying to avoid Lucien's piercing glare. Elain was looking at her lap, her lips pursed uncomfortably. Eris had one leg over his chair's arm rest and he was picking his nails as if this was the most unimportant chore he would have to do all day. I slid deeper into my chair, sighing. This was going to be a very, very long day.

"Eris, how about you start?" Lucien snarled, and I could swear a hint of relief waved over Helion's face. "As the reason I'm here is because my mate had a vision that you were going to infiltrate the Spring Court." Eris snorted at this.

"Why would I want to touch the Spring Court?" Eris asked, scoffing.

"Because you're an asshole," Jurian interjected, and Lucien nodded towards him in agreement. Helion coughed.

"Coming from the guy who was dumb enough to murder Amarantha's sister," Eris spat at him. "You deserved what she gave you, if you ask me." And something had shifted in Jurian's eyes. A look that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

"Stop," I growled at the both of them. "This is my home. There will be respect given to everybody in this room." Eris, his eyes flashing, looked away from Jurian and redirected his eyes at me.

"You should be glad that I'm here," Eris sneered. "I have a whole court to rule, you know."

"Then go back," I replied dryly. Eris flinched at this.

"I'm already here," he said highly, his voice raspy. "I might as well stay." I sighed deeply, looking at Helion. He looked bad, to say the least. He looked tired already.

"And what about you, Helion? Anything you want to share?" I asked. He pursed his lips awkwardly. Lucien still wouldn't look at him.

"Nothing that you don't already know," he said shamefully. The anger in my face softened.

"What happened to you?" I said quietly. And when he looked at me, there was a tremendous amount of pain in his eyes.

"The Cauldron is what happened to me. its gone rogue," he breathed.

"The Cauldron is now in your possession is it not?" I asked.

"Ever since war happened, I have gotten sicker and sicker," Helion said in a low voice. "After I found out that Feyre took a bit of my power, I thought it was because of her but even after the war ended, my spells began to….change. The gifts I and my ancestors bare are directly from the Cauldron, but so much has been done. The Cauldron has revived lives, has remade lives. From the situation with the Archeons to Rhysand's second in command. The Cauldron is no longer obeying us, it's uncontrollable." My eyes narrowed on him.

"So what does that mean?" I asked softly. Helion's eyes rose to meet mine, glittering.

"I will die soon enough. My body, for centuries, has relied on the power of the Cauldron. Whenever it was used, I could feel it in my fingers. Just yesterday, I was doing a healing and I fell to the ground," Helion said quietly. "I felt like a part of my body disappeared." I didn't say anything. There was nothing I could say. Though all the High Lords had difficult relationships with one another, we all were connected in an obscure way. The idea of one day dying without any reason…I understood that fear.

"I need a successor," he rasped, "and, conveniently, I have found one." His eyes looked pointedly at Lucien, but there was nothing on his face that showed acceptance. "But there will be a contract to be made if you are to take my place."

"A contract?" Eris asked, one eyebrow risen. The same question was written on Lucien's face as he looked at Helion.

"I don't want it," Lucien said quietly. "I have found my place at the Night Court." I winced.

"Rhysand's court?" Helion said, a short chuckle. "He may be able to show you beautiful things, but ruling is a whole new game. Ask your brother if you don't believe me." Helion shrugged towards Eris, who in which was still lounging in his chair. Lucien's eyes narrowed on him.

"I never wanted it," Lucien replied. Helion huffed at this.

"Because you knew in your blood that you weren't a son of Autumn," Helion snarled, anger that I had never heard from him rippling in his voice. "If it was my choice, I would've taken you both back." _Both_. I leaned forward in my chair, watching as Helion's aura glowed brighter. Eris straightened.

"With my mother at your side, you mean," Eris spat. I looked at him curiously as Eris's whole body tightened. Helion had turned to him slowly, an unusual amount of rage burning in his eyes. I had never thought about it – if Helion actually loved her. I assumed not, as the Lady of Autumn was an extremely beautiful woman, but clearly I was wrong.

"Yes," Helion hissed. "Both." Eris gripped the table suddenly.

"I don't care if you're dying, I don't care if you're his father," Eris fumed. "You will not touch her." Helion smirked.

"Is this why you came?" He asked, and Eris's snarl broke. "You wanted to see if I was going to come after your mother now that you butchered your father. I'm taking away your brother, why wouldn't I take away your mother, right? Bring her along with us?"

"One of the many," Eris admitted. Lucien blinked at the both of them.

"And would that be so bad?" Helion said slowly, his lips curled up. "Your father beat her every night." Lucien glowered at Helion.

"Raped her-" Eris looked like Helion had slapped him. Even I was beginning to tense up.

"Demeaned her until she hated herself," Helion said, his voice shaking. I could feel Jurian's glare at me, as if begging me to stop this before a fight was unleashed.

"My father loved her," Eris argued, his voice breaking. Helion only laughed at that.

"I begged her to come with me," Helion said, an icy look in his eyes as he smiled at him. "I begged her. I even went on my own damn knees once. And she still wouldn't come. Because she wanted to protect _you_." Eris's nose flared.

"Shut up," Eris seethed. "You don't know her or my father. You're just a sick old man who is going to die alone." Helion held his gaze for a moment and I was sure he was going to lash out. Who would win? I thought. Helion, who was sick but knew his powers far better than Eris. Or Eris, who had fire built into him and would kill him before he even knew of the consequences.

"You said that was one of them," A voice interrupted. I turned my head. Jurian was looking at Eris with a stony gaze. Eris scuffed at him.

"What?" He snapped. Jurian didn't even blink.

"You said that was _one_ of the reasons that you came here," Jurian reminded him. "What were the others?" Helion had loosened his posture as he leaned back into the chair. Eris was quiet for a moment, as if debating on whether to share, but then his eyes went towards Lucien.

"Because I set this up." At first everybody stared at him, bewildered, but then Helion sneered.

"Tamlin asked me to come here. You didn't set this up." I straightened instantly, my eyebrows furrowed down.

"I didn't ask you to come here, you asked me to come here," I argued. Lucien blinked at me while Helion shook his head.

"That-" And then he stopped and looked at Eris. "You sent a message to Tamlin, pretending to me, and vice versa?" There was anger in his voice. "I am a High Lord! I have very important things to do in my day, and you bother me with a trick?"

"You told me you wanted to meet at a neutral court," Lucien interrupted. Helion shook his head putting his head in his hands.

"You tricked all of us?" I asked Eris. There was a slight smirk on his face.

"And this is why we don't have visitors," Jurian muttered underneath his breath. Lucien's upper lip curled back at Eris.

"You're such a piece of crap," Lucien blurted. Eris blinked at him rapidly.

"Excuse me?"

"You manipulated all of us," Lucien breathed. "What do you get out of, Eris? Making us all be in the Spring Court during this charade?" Eris stood on his feet suddenly, anger ripping across his face.

"What do you mean what do I get out of this? Why do you think I did this for me?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you don't have any self-interest in this at all?" Lucien yelled, followed by a laugh. "You're so full of it, Eris."  
"Is that really impossible?" Eris spat. "That maybe I was doing this for you? A selfless act?" Lucien blanched.

"And how the hell is intercepting our letters a selfless act?!" Lucien bellowed. "Why would you even do this? Why would you waste your time, waste _our_ time, to do this?"

"Why do you care, Lucien?!"

"Because I'm tired of you!" Lucien seethed. "Everything is about you, isn't it? Everything!"

"That's not true."

"Then why? Tell me, Eris. Why?!"

"Because I knew Tamlin wouldn't let him hurt you," Eris admitted quietly, looking downward. Lucien opened his mouth, about to retort, but then he stopped. Eris looked up at Helion. Helion looked surprised.

"I knew that you discovered you had a son but I didn't believe you were sick," Eris said icily. "I don't trust you, Helion." Helion rose an eyebrow.

"I guess we have something in common," Helion agreed. Eris sat back down in his seat, not looking away from Helion's gaze.

"I'll sign your damn contract," Lucien blurted. Everybody looked at him in shock.

"Good," Helion said, though I couldn't say the same.

"What?!" Eris said now. "You don't even know what the contract is!" Lucien's chin rose.

"Who cares? The first thing I'm going to do is take your kingdom anyways," Lucien snarled. Eris's hands clung to the table, smoke coming from his hands. I sighed.

"Oh, for the love of…" Jurian muttered. Helion, on the other hand, looked relatively amused.

"Here's the contract," Helion said quickly, just as Eris's mouth opened. He put the sheet and quill on the table, passing it across Elain. Lucien looked at it warily. "Just sign at the bottom."

"What are the terms?" Lucien asked and Eris growled from the other side of the table.

"Nothing much. Just that you put my Court first, you rule to you die, you hold to our moral code, blah blah blah," Helion said, and Lucien's face began to turn whiter. "And, I want you to learn your powers. You have my blood too." Eris snorted.

"I…I have never shown any signs of your Day Court powers," Lucien said hesitantly. "Only fire." Eris was smirking from the other side of the table.

"Because you've never tried," Helion explained. "I can have trainers available tomorrow morning, if you want." But Lucien bit his lip and looked at Elain. She looked anxious as well, but she nodded her head.

"I'll have to go back to the Night Court briefly," Lucien said apprehensively. "Find myself a replacement…" But when he looked up from the paper, he saw Eris's piercing eyes. And with this, he took the quill and wrote his name at the bottom. Before he could look at any further, he passed it to Helion.

"There, it's-"

"High Lord!" A voice yelled. I stood up from my chair. Jurian, beside me, had a knife out. The voice had come from outback. Quickly, I raced to the backyard into the garden. One of my gardeners were out there, running towards me.

"There's a body!" She screamed, tears flowing down her face. "Straight back there. Straight-" And then we were running. Jurian zoomed in front of me, rushing through the trees that went inside the forest. As I glanced back, I saw Lucien, Eris and Helion. Clearly, Elain had stayed back.

Suddenly, Jurian stopped. He didn't grow any closer. From where he stood, I couldn't see what he was looking at because whatever he was looking at was in a ditch.

"Well, what is it, Jurian?" Helion said impatiently. And when Jurian turned around, his face had changed colors. His eyes were round, and again I could see the maddening glint in his eyes. And a shiver went down my spine because Jurian, the man who had led thousands of men to battle, who had conquered death, who was forced to watch every torture Amarantha committed, all in which was in his name, looked terrified. I had never seen him terrified, I realized. Not in the last centuries that I've known him. Not even with a knife to his throat.

" _Luna_ ," He whispered. I stepped back on my heel, shaking my head at him, but he wasn't joking. A part of me told me to run, to run back to my estate, but I felt my feet grow closer. Helion was already next to Jurian. He snarled at him.

"That's impossible," he spat. Jurian didn't look away from me.

"The dark haired girl," Jurian repeated emptily. "Willowy figure. It was Luna. You were talking about Luna." I couldn't respond – it was too much. Too much to accept. Instead, I slowly followed his trail. And then I was next to him, looking down into the ditch.

A girl was laying down in there, her eyes closed. There were leaves mixed into her dark hair and there was a purple shade below her eyes. Her lips were lost of color but her dress…it was the darkest black possible, with the cashmere part starting at the knees. It was twisted around her painfully, and the uncut ruby that was hanging around her neck was glowing. Her skin was dead white but yet…

"Are we really wasting our time with this?" Eris snarled, his arms crossed tightly. "She's dead. Boo-hoo. Now let's go back and finish our conversation." But nobody even responded to him. I could feel my breath go in and out, but I felt like I still wasn't breathing. My fingers were shaking at my sides.

Lucien jumped down next to her, going down on his knees as he analyzed the body. All I could do was shake my head. There she was, there was her body, but how? How could she be here? It was impossible. Absolutely impossible.

"She has wings," Lucien said aloud. "She looks…like an Illyrian. Though, I've never met a female Illyrian with wings. And why would she be here? In the Spring Court?" But his words hung in the air loosely. Though Helion had quickly dismissed the possibility, he was still lingering. Surely, deep down, he was considering it as well. We were all considering it. Because, somehow, none of us could go any closer.

"Don't touch her," I heard myself growl at Lucien sharply. My claws had flung out. Lucien looked at me wide-eyed.

"Why? Who is she?" Lucien asked quickly. "Tam- _Tamlin_ , do you know her?" Helion was still sneering at the sight. But Jurian swung his head towards me sharply.

"I thought you killed her," Jurian said, and his words sounded like an accusation as he took a dangerous step towards me. "I even heard the words come out of your mouth. You burned her wings." I inhaled raggedly. I felt myself move towards him, a growl deep in my throat.

"Don't be silly, Jurian," Helion interrupted. "It's an illusion. Or a creature. Either way, its dead." Lucien shook his head.

"I don't think so," Lucien countered, his voice far too casual. "Look, she's breathing." He nodded towards her chest. I dared myself to look closer, only a few inches, but then I stumbled backwards, inhaling raggedly as my body collided with a tree behind me. I gripped onto it, my fingernails sinking into the trunk.

"Oh, fuck," Helion breathed, horror filling his face now, growing closer. Lucien was looking at me wild-eyed. "This isn't good…"

"If anybody could have conquered death, it would be Luna," Jurian said dryly, shaking his head. Lucien stood on his feet, concern filling his face as he looked at me.

"Conquered death?" Eris repeated. We all looked back at him. If anything, he looked uncomfortable. He was leaning onto a tree causally, but he was stiff.

"Are you telling me someone did it again?" Eris tried to say in a sneer, but his voice broke in the middle. "Is this another Archeon sister?" Jurian turned towards him. He took slow, precise steps towards him. There was nothing but cold fury on his face. Eris stepped back.

"No," Jurian murmured. "She is the daughter of Tiberius, daughter of Semele, and…" Jurian swallowed. Even he couldn't say it. But the words fell out of my mouth like water.

"And sister of Rhysand, the High Lord of Night," I breathed.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"We have to get her to Rhysand." After I told Eris who the girl was, and watched him blanch, I scooped the body into my arms. She didn't move as I held her to my chest. I could still feel her chest beating, the blood-red necklace around her neck pulsing. But the rest of her…she looked dead. My eyes didn't look down at her as I carried her in. All I could think about was, _was it real? Was last night real?_

Despite the dirt that was caked all over her body, I set her down on the white couch. We all hovered awkwardly.

"We are not getting Rhysand," Helion replied sternly. It was Elain's idea – when we walked in, Lucien filled her in quickly, but no matter how much we could explain to them, they would never understand. They would never understand how horrific this situation was.

"Why not?" Eris interjected. "It's his sister, isn't it? His problem." We all looked back at him. He scrunched back as he held all of our glares.

"What? You think he'll just calmly knock on the front doors when he hears his sister is alive?" Jurian snarled. "He'll kill us. All of us, just for being here. He'll burn this place to ash and carry her out in his own arms. And I wouldn't blame him." Eris's eyes widened.

"Then I'm leaving," Eris declared. "I'm not going to succumb to this idiocy. This is your problem."  
"It's all of our problems." I was surprised to hear it from Helion. It came out calmly as he sat on the couch next to Luna. His fingers ran through her tangled hair. "Anyways, I owe him. I'm not leaving until she's alright." My eyebrows furrowed down. It was unusual to see Helion be compassionate. He cared for his own court, sure, but I had never seen him care about anyone else.

"You owe Rhysand?" Lucien asked curiously. Helion looked up at him, his eyes looking centuries old as he stopped stroking Luna's dark hair.

"No, his father. Tiberius," Helion explained. "I was High Lord before Rhysand was. No matter how much of an asshole Tiberius was, he helped my court when we needed it most. The least I can do is help heal his daughter." It felt like a punch in the gut. It was my fault she was dead, I thought. And now she was alive, and it changed everything.

"You can help her?" I asked quietly. "She'll live?" But when Helion looked up at me, his eyes were daggers.

"If this is the Cauldron's doing, yes, I can," Helion replied. "It's a spell. An ancient spell. Only the Cauldron could do this kind of magic. I can feel it at the tips of my fingers. I'm not sure who casted it but-"

"She casted it herself," I replied sharply. "Before I-" I choked on the word. "Before it happened, she asked to say a prayer. I…" Helion looked away from me, no longer in the mood to hear my words. His shaking fingers were rubbing her temples softly.

"This was the danger," Elain whispered. She huddled against Lucien. "This was the danger I foresaw." Lucien looked at her, his face contemplative. He looked back at me hesitantly.

"She can't stay here," Lucien said. "She's the sister of the High Lady. If something happens…" I nodded understandably.

"Go," I said. Helion swung his head towards him quickly.

"You signed the papers, you will be back." It wasn't a question, it was a demand. Lucien held his cold glare for a moment and then winnowed into thin air before Helion could say anything more.

"I swear, that boy," Helion growled, his fingers dropping down to Luna's throat. "He has more of _her_ stubbornness than he'll ever know." Eris's eyes flickered at him but he said nothing.

"Is this really what I looked like?" Jurian asked curiously as his eyes hovered over Luna. "Did I look this dead?" I looked over at him.

"I was too busy thinking about other things," I said under my breath. He pondered this as he continued to stare at Luna.

"Did you really burn them?" Jurian said now, his words lower. "Her wings?" He looked up at me, holding my gaze. His eyes were hard, yet…sympathetic. As if he might be able to look past my sins, as I did his.

"Yes," I told him, and this time my words didn't choke in my throat. "I did." Helion's hand was hovering over her heart. I could see a small strip of gold flicker between her body and his hand.

"Everything is in perfect condition," Helion said, partly to himself, as he looked at her body in a way that only a healer could. "Aside from her unconscious state and the occasional cuts, presumably from her time in the woods, everything seems perfect. Her heart is beating in a rhythmic manner, I don't see any broken bones or anything that needs stitches. And her wings…you say you clipped them. But they are in perfect condition."

"You think this is the Cauldron's doing?" I asked, watching as Helion's hands slipped to her stomach area.

"I don't know anything else that has the power to wake the dead," Helion muttered. "Clearly, the Cauldron is ill, making me ill." Jurian rolled his eyes.

"When has the Cauldron being ill caused people to go back to life?" He sneered. Helion's eyes were icy when he looked back at Jurian.

"The Cauldron holds power you can't ever understand," He replied flatly. "If it's in control, everything is in balance. It's like ying and yang. But if it's out of balance, if it's ill, it will give and take erratically. It will hear demands that it should not give." _Demands that it should not give._ But shouldn't it? Was it right for me to kill her?

"Who else will this ef-" But then Luna stirred. Helion jolted back just an inch, his fingers zapping golden beams on accident. His eyes were wide. Everybody was quiet as they watched her.

"Maybe she-" But then her thick, black eyelashes fluttered. I stepped back, leaning away from view as her eyes slowly opened. They were violet, I thought. A bright violet. Nobody breathed for a moment as she blinked a few times, staring at the ceiling. Jurian was the first to lean over her, catching her attention.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Jurian said finally, flashing her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Jurian?" She mumbled, confused as her eyes narrowed on him with disgust. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I could ask the same about you," Jurian replied, his voice crisp. "Tell me, how does a bitch like you deserve to come back from the dead?" She goggled at him.

"What…" And then she saw me. The confusion wiped from her face and at first there was nothing. Merely looking over me, as if to identify something she had missed. And then she rose her chin, her eyes cold as night. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"You killed me," she whispered. I opened my mouth, about to say something, but nothing came out. Helion quickly jumped into view.

"Old news," Helion told her, waving his hand dismissively. "You have bigger issues." But she didn't say anything. Just stared and stared at me. It was worse, I realized, that she wasn't trying to kill me. Instead, she looked past my skin and my powers and only stared at the beast inside me. The disgusting, horrible beast that had killed her that night.

"Bigger issues?" She asked emptily, not looking away from me. Helion nodded.

"Yes, see, it's been a few centuries since you last breathed," Helion told her casually. "So, whatever magic you decided to cast upon yourself a few centuries ago, it would be great for you to recollect for me. You're going to have some serious recovery-"

"Why?" But she wasn't asking him. She was asking me. I felt a lump in my throat grow.

"Politics," I said simply. But that wasn't enough, I knew. My words did nothing for her – it didn't fuel any anger, nor show any relief or sympathy on her face. I expected more questions to spill from her, more emotion, but nothing.

"Where am I?" She asked me, looking around. I swallowed.

"The Spring Court," I said. Her violet eyes narrowed on me cruelly. I could feel the disgust radiating off her.

"You're High Lord," she realized in a low voice, her eyes going over me again. Helion watched me closely as I nodded.

"I am," I replied. Her violet eyes couldn't have looked colder.

"Where's my father?" She asked tightly. When I didn't respond, she said louder, "I want to see my father!"

"Your father's dead." It came from Eris. We all swung our heads towards him, clearly forgetting he was even here. He was looking at her with disgust. She propped herself up on her elbows, looking him over.

"And you are?" She spat. He gave her a thin smile.

"High Lord of the Autumn Court," he told her stiffly. "A lot has changed since you've died." And then she looked around the room again – at Helion, at me, at Eris. Anxiety began to fill her face as her long nails scratched into the couch, horror consuming her. Helion reached for her calmly.

"Luna-" But she tried rising from the couch, not before screeching in pain. Helion put his hands on her.

"Luna, you have to sit down," Helion instructed. "Or else you're going to hurt yourself." She didn't care. Her eyes ran jerkily from all of us, trying to get out of Helion's grasp.

"Where's Rhysand?" She shouted, her eyes wide. " _Where's my brother_?" And the moment was perfect because right then, the windows exploded. Glass rained down as Helion and I created a shield that went over the five of us. And then I heard an explosion – the door opening with a bang. I straightened up, unconsciously standing in front of the couch as Helion cursed.

And then I saw them – Lucien, first. I tilted my head as I digested the apologetic look on his face.

"Lucien-" But then Rhysand came into view. He was only wearing dark pants, his hair wet with sweat as if he had just been training. His eyes were blazing as they went past me, falling to his sister. Beside him, Azriel – his spymaster, I remembered, hovered close to him, his eyes jotting around the area quickly.

" _You're alive_ ," Rhysand whispered.

~*~ discididium ~*~

 **Omg, I thought I'd never finish that. Anyways, I need some serious reviews. I wrote that in one sitting. Give me something, yeah? Please. If you like it, leave a comment. Thank you 3**


	4. Chapter 4

My body slammed into the wall instantly. Rhysand didn't even look at me. But the minute he said her name, he raised his hand in my direction. Before I could muster a shield, I crumbled against the wall. I barely even saw the stream of light before it hit me in the chest, knocking the wind out of me and shooting me across the room. As I tried rising to my feet, I couldn't help but stare at the scene at a distance. He was walking towards her steadily, so quietly and carefully. She merely looked at him, holding his gaze. Nobody in the room, not even Eris, did no more than breathe as Rhysand evaluated her.

"I'm so sorry," he said softly, and I had never heard him sound so human. "Luna…" But she didn't respond. There was nothing in her eyes, I saw. She didn't move towards him, or dare speak any words. Her hand went to her chest rapidly, gripping the pulsing ruby. Rhysand glanced at it and he winced.

As he continued stepping towards her, my eyes jerked to Azriel. He didn't even glance at her as he took his time noting every corner, evaluating every shadow as if it were his property. My stomach tightened angrily. This was _my_ home. When will Rhysand start learning that he can't just walk in? An internal part of me felt the need to strike, to growl. But as much as I wanted to fight, to react, to defend my territory, something stopped me. A part of me that hadn't existed until after the second war. I was tired of my past haunting me. I found that I didn't mind him taking her away, even if it was my court. As long as he did it peacefully, I could look past his invasion.

When Rhysand finally got the couch, he looked at the remaining individuals. First at Helion, whose hand was back on Luna's temples. He swallowed when he met Rhysand's piercing eyes. Rhysand, after he held Helion's gaze, turned towards Jurian who had been hovering over her as well. Jurian quickly stepped away from the couch, holding his hands out in surrender. He was, after all, no hero.

"Rhysand-" Helion had begun but Rhysand offered her his hand.

"I'm taking you home," Rhysand said, his voice oddly calm as he looked down at her. But she didn't grasp his outstretched hand. If anything, she recoiled sharply, sinking into the couch deeper. Rhysand's eyes flashed, his jaw clenching. He looked like he was ticking, like a bomb that was about to go off. He briefly glanced at Helion who shook his head lightly.

"Luna," he said, this time desperate. " _Please_." Helion swallowed.

"Rhys…" He said gently. "She can't leave. I can't…"

"She _can't_ leave?" Rhysand snarled suddenly, his violet eyes blazing. "You dare tell me what I can and can't do with my sister? You dare tell the Night Court how to handle their affairs?" Azriel had turned towards Rhysand within half a second, his calculating eyes running him up and down worriedly. Clearly, he was more conscious of the situation.

"Rhys," Helion said again, sterner. "You know how this magic is. You've seen it with your own eyes. If you weren't in knowledge, you would've winnowed her away without a second thought. There would be grave consequences if you took her without her body healed."

"Damn the consequences," Rhysand said. He reached for her at a speed that I could barely detect, scooping her up with two hands. He wasn't stupid – he knew she wouldn't survive winnowing. So he sprinted towards the exit but as soon as he stepped out of the front door, screams erupted from the porch. Helion cursed underneath his breath. I didn't dare take a step.

"Bring her back in, Rhys!" Helion bellowed from where he sat. And to my surprise, only a second later, Rhysand sprinted back in, and a memory had surged through me when I saw him cradling his screaming sister. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked desperate, broken from his persona. Like he'd do anything, anything anybody wanted, in order to protect his family.

Her scream rang against the walls painfully. My hands covered my ears, trying to fade out her screams. I couldn't listen to her screams, not after what I did to her.

"Let go of her!" I roared. "Let go-" And he didn't even stop me as I walked towards her. He was only looking down at her, his violet eyes wide with horror. And as soon as my hands touched her, her screams died. Her eyes were fluttering. Her breathing was rapid. As he froze in place, I grabbed her from his arms, putting her back on the couch easily. She was still in pain, still panting, but she looked calmer. Just by my touch, she looked calmer.

Rhysand was breathing heavily as he ran his fingers through his hair. His spymaster was next to him suddenly, whispering in his ear but whatever he was saying wasn't calming him down. Rhysand's lips were trembling. He took one step towards her, his fingers reaching for her desperately again, but Helion interrupted.

"Don't touch her, Rhys!" Helion yelped and then added softly when Rhysand's lips curled up at him, his eyes nailing on him dangerously, "She's alive because of magic. _Magic_ , Rhys." Rhysand looked like he, the most so-called powerful High Lord in the world, was about to crumble on his knees. But then something shifted – like the sadness in his eyes wiped away and all he had left was vengeance. Rhysand snorted through his nose.

"No, shit, Helion," Rhysand spat. Helion's eyes flashed at Rhysand's tone but then when he blinked, his face softened.

"Moving her might just kill her again," Helion said carefully. Rhysand's fingers clenched at his sides. He looked like he was about to vomit all over my floor. His face had changed colors entirely. "She was dead, Rhys. Her body needs to adjust to the world again. Magic doesn't do that – it can only restart your heart. It doesn't adjust your body. It's a horrible transition." Rhysand's breathed through his teeth.

"My Second in Command healed-"

"That was entirely different magic," Helion interrupted impatiently. "Your sister…she might be…she might be bound, Rhys. You need to expect the worst." Rhysand tilted his head, incapable of comprehension. But I knew those words, I knew what that meant. I had heard it in my dreams every night for months, I had obsessed over it. _Bound._ Nausea rose in my stomach. Helion looked hesitant to go on.

I stepped forward.

"Bound?" I said aloud, my mouth dry. "Bound to…" And then Azriel caught it before Rhysand did. He grabbed onto him quickly, but he was no match against the High Lord of Night. Rhysand pushed him off easily and then turned towards me like an animal waiting to trap prey. His eyes looked at me for just a moment – not blinking, just staring at me like his sister had before.

"You did this," he said aloud, his voice but a whisper. "You son of a bitch." And then he was next to me. His fist swung towards me sloppily, aiming for my stomach but his hands were still shaking. Based on pure luck, I scooted out of the way, making his fist land into the wall. Quickly, I tried going around him but he faced me again, this time landing a bunch in my stomach. I doubled over, debating my options. I had no weapon on me, and I knew that Rhysand wouldn't stop until I was dead. And I deserved it, I thought, as he landed another punch and sent me on my back. I deserved to die, I deserved this. Rhysand held out his fist again, but this time purple magic was swimming around it. I didn't know what magic it was, but I wasn't going to survive it. I knew I wouldn't.

Jurian's body flung in front of mine, his arms outstretched at his sides. Rhysand growled.

"Stop," Jurian commanded, before Rhysand spoke. For some reason, even though Rhysand could have knocked him out with a single thought, Rhysand didn't strike.

"Loyal to him, Jurian?" Rhysand said with a tsk, a thin smile reflecting back at him. With his violet eyes twisting, he looked maddening. "I thought you were better than to defend a coward." And then Jurian was on his knees, grasping his head. I scrambled up this time. Thankfully, as Rhysand looked down at Jurian, who was now hacking on the ground and no longer at Rhysand's will, I threw a sphere of magic at Rhysand. Rhysand didn't even tumble back as I hit him in the chest. He looked at it and then looked back up at me. There was cold silence, very cold silence.

"You want to kill me? Do it," I seethed, my fangs flinging out. "But you will not touch anyone in my household. _I_ killed her. This is on _me_. Not them." Rhysand digested my words, letting it hang in the air limply for a few long moments, but then shook his head slowly. A laugh even escaped from between his sharp teeth.

"I've known you for centuries, Tamlin, and now you want to play hero? Even after you-"

"Stop." The word was crisp, cold as ice. Behind Rhysand, his spymaster loomed. Rhysand didn't even turn around.

"Leave it alone, Az," Rhysand growled. He shrugged off the spymaster once again and looked at me with a look that could have killed me just by the glint. And then my head rang painfully. My hands tried clamping onto it, but I couldn't move. I couldn't even breathe. I mustered all the power I could manage, feeling it at my fingertips, but I couldn't fight this magic. It was like shooting at a brick wall. I could feel blood inside me stop rushing, I could feel my breath begin to freeze.

"Rhysand, don't be a fool!" A voice at a distance yelled. Possibly Helion? But black spots were beginning to fog my vision. My body was going numb, my brain feeling like it was on fire. I wanted to scream, I wanted to yell, but I couldn't. I couldn't even think properly. I had never been subjected to Rhysand's powers, not really. Not lethally.

"Don't kill him!" The words left me on the floor. I looked up slowly. Rhysand was stricken as he looked back at the couch. His sister was propped up fully, with Helion hovering over her with a worried look. The black spots that clouded my vision began to disappear and I hacked painfully as I tried to pay attention to the scene in front of me.

"Don't kill him," she bleated, her voice cracking as Rhysand gaped at her stupidly. She looked in pain.

"He killed you," He said, his voice breaking as if he were a child. "I gave him mercy. But now I realize, I was wrong, Lu."

"I can feel it in my fingers," Luna went on hoarsely, holding up one of her hands. The tips of her fingers looked green. "I can feel every breath he makes, Rhys. Every single breath." Rhys's fist went to his side limply as he digested what she was saying. He looked like he was about to vomit. And then he turned and looked at me. It was like he was looking at me for the first time, his eyes like daggers yet horrified at the sight of me.

"No…" Rhysand said vaguely, partly to himself. His eyes looked away from her, dazing out without focus. "I need…I need Amren. I need Amren here, now. She can fix this. She'll know how to fix this." He looked over at Azriel. Azriel looked around, evaluating the scene once more, but then nodded curtly. Once he winnowed away, Rhysand walked back over towards the couch, sitting at her feet. She winced when he sat down.

"Why are you all here anyways? A little tea party?" Each word was clipped sharply. His eyes looked around at all of us – from me, to Helion, to Jurian, to Eris. He even looked back at Lucien. His words weren't out of curiosity though, it was out of suspicion. Almost as if he was debating on which one of us was more of a threat. "What? You just conveniently forgot to invite the Night Court?"

"It's my house," I reminded him coolly. "I live here." He was still for a second but then reflected back a cold smile. He then looked at Helion, whose majority of his attention was towards Luna.

"And you, Helion?" Rhysand demanded. "Why is my sister alive? What, you thought the Night Court wouldn't hear about your participation?" And when Helion looked up at him, I could tell his patience had waned.

"I'm here on my own accord," Helion told him dryly. "As was the rest of us. This…your sister was just a coincidence." Rhysand's head shot to Lucien. Clearly, as Lucien looked to the ground, he was yet to fill him in with the manner. Rhysand looked back at Helion, his eyes nailing on him once more. For the first time, he began to notice the signs that I had seen earlier. His eyebrows knitted down.

"You're sick," Rhysand whispered, and I swore I could have heard a hint of sympathy. "I didn't know."

"Why would you know?" Helion muttered. "It's why I wanted Lucien here." He nodded towards him and as Rhysand looked between them, he understood the connection. Lucien turned red, clearly embarrassed, but Rhysand only nodded understandably.

"That's why I'm here isn't it?" Luna said, her voice rasp. Rhysand winced when she spoke, as if hearing her speak was like getting punched over and over. "I can feel your relationship with the Cauldron. It's not unlike mine. Ever since I died, I've been having…" Her voice died for a moment, swallowing as her lips turned into a straight line. Clearly, whatever she was going to say she was reluctant to let out. Rhysand had hovered closer, as if leaning in would make her speak more.

"Dreams, almost," Jurian finished. Everybody whipped their head towards him. He looked at Luna stonily. "I had them too. I wasn't dead, but I wasn't alive. Being trapped into body parts…it's not like you all think. It's not like you're sitting there watching all the time. You're hovering almost, watching the world at a distance, living between worlds." At first Luna was still, her violet eyes glittering, but then she nodded.

"I've been hovering in the Spring Court for a while, Rhys," she admitted quietly, avoiding my gaze. For just a moment, there was a hint of betrayal on his face. "Even…"

"It was real," I heard myself say aloud, the hair on the back of my neck sticking up. "Last night wasn't in my head." And Rhysand's body snapped in my direction quickly. There was a scowl on his face.

"You saw my sister last night and you didn't contact the Night Court?" Rhysand said, disgust filling his tone. "How dare-" And then he stopped. His eyes, which were once wide with emotion, narrowed on me. I felt my back straighten.

"Last night was Calanmai," he said, his voice crisp. Helion, who was on the other side of the couch, coughed suddenly. "What do you mean you _saw_ her?" My lips turned into a straight line, looking at Luna. I wanted her to elaborate, to say more, but despite Helion's healing, she still looked like death. She looked back at me, but she looked drained of energy. Like she had dug herself out of her own grave and now barely had the will to breathe.

"She needs to sleep," Helion interrupted, clearing his throat. Rhysand shook his head.

"She can't go to sleep," he said, and he almost sounded desperate. "I can't-"

"If she's meant to live, she'll wake up," Helion said. "But if she is to live, she needs her energy replenished." Rhysand looked like Helion had slapped him across the face. Hesitantly, Rhysand nodded. With one wave of the hand, a spark of gold, her eyelids flickered. She let out a deep breath before closing her eyes. We all watched, waited for just a moment. Counting each breath she took.

"Am I still necessary here?" A voice chimed. I turned my head towards the corner. Eris was leaning on the wall. He looked shaken, but there was still a sneer on his face. "I don't see how I'm needed."

"Don't worry, Eris," Rhysand said in a low voice, "nobody expects you to do anything heroic." Lucien smirked. But Eris's eyes went Helion. Helion didn't even blink.

"I promise you nothing," Helion said to Eris bitterly. Eris's face shifted to a snarl. But I stepped forward, my claws out and my fangs showing. He flinched back.

"Go, Eris," I said, my voice a snarl. "And don't come back." He lingered for a moment, his eyes glazing over all of us.

"This isn't over," he promised. Before anybody could say anymore, he vanished into thin air. As everybody waited in silence, I turned around to look at all of them. Helion's hands were going over Luna, Luna's eyes were struggling to stay awake, Rhysand's gaze was stuck on her as he restrained himself from touching her from the opposite side of the couch, Lucien was bouncing on his feet uncomfortably, Jurian was pacing around the perimeter of the room with a suspicious glare on his face. It wasn't until that moment did I realize that this situation was my worst nightmare. Or at least, that's what I thought until a cloud of black smoke erupted into my castle like a tornado. Behind me, I heard Jurian curse. I fell to my knees, the wind knocking me on my back. But when the cloud of smoke disappeared, a new nightmare was in front of me.

I recognized all of them. It was Rhysand's crew – his so-called inner circle. Feyre faced me directly, her new family hovering behind her. She was dressed in a black top that stopped at her midriff and a pair of soft pants, one of the outfits that wasn't unlike what I had seen her in when she came back to the castle after her bargain with Rhysand. Beside her, Mor, who I had met on multiple occasions yet had barely shared a word, loomed next to her. She was wearing a sundress of all things, a blood-red. Despite the casual dress, something scary beamed off of her that I couldn't quite depict. On the other side of Feyre, her creature, Amren, glared at me. She was wearing a red, silk robe with a hood over her head and many necklaces, mostly large stones, hung around her neck. Azriel was behind Mor, this time with his infamous truth-teller out and her sisters were directly behind Feyre. Nesta glared at me, with Cassian straight behind her with an axe in his hand, and Elain clung at her side.

Jurian stepped next to me. Not to fight, but to face them. One of his eyebrows had perked up impressively.

" _Get out._ " None of them even blinked as I said the words. My nostrils flared.

"This is my home," I stammered. I could feel the anger build up in my veins. "I let your High Lord in as a curtesy to his sister. But you are not welcome. Leave or there will be grave consequences." Something flickered in Feyre's eyes as she stepped towards me, and a smile curled onto her face.

"You don't get to made demands," she said, her voice low. Dangerous. "You lost that right." My claws came out but she didn't even wince.

"Ran over to defend your sweet little husband, did you?" I asked, the words slipping from my mouth before I could stop them. Jurian tensed at my side. "I didn't think you believed in loyalty." Her face flushed with redness. Her crew grow closer. I was unsure why Rhysand was so quiet, for the first time not jumping in. I assumed it was because he was too immersed into his sister to worry, but then I realized that it was because he trusted to Feyre to stand her ground.

"I didn't come here to gain your acceptance, Tamlin," she spat. "But I promise you, if you don't move out of my fucking way, I'm going to turn your home into a tornado of ice and fire and blackness. And I will not leave survivors." My fingers began to shake. _I dare you_ , I almost said. But then my eyes fell beside her. Amren was glaring at me. I had heard she was no longer a beast, but did that leave her any less monstrous? And then I thought of Luna's slow, beating heart. About Helion's sickness. About how nobody knew how to save her.

"Can you fix her?" I asked quietly, looking at Amren. Her grey eyes were like daggers. There was no mercy to be shared.

"I've lived thousands of years," she said, her voice low but crisp. "I am no healer, but if this is ancient magic, I'm your best bet." And with that, my eyes looked back at Feyre. Her twisting eyes. My eyes went down at her arm, analyzing the mesmerizing tattoo. It had taken me weeks to accept it, to stop thinking about it. But I knew I had to stop looking at her like I knew her. She was not the same woman I loved. Just like Amren, she was something else entirely.

"I will allow it. But don't take this as an extended invitation," I spat. "I don't want your _cronies_ lingering here."

"Don't you worry about that," Feyre snapped, shoving past me as she collided with my shoulder. The rest of her family went around me like I was a piece of furniture, not even bothering to even glance at me. Many of them, though, shot Jurian cold looks that made him roll his eyes.

When Rhysand looked up at Feyre, his whole face softened. He jumped up immediately and she pulled him closer to her. He grabbed onto her tightly. Her fingers stroked his cheeks as their noses touched.

"She's alive," Rhysand whimpered, almost like he was running out of air. Helion had shifted away, his magic shining at a distance. "Feyre, she's alive. My sister…" Amren had taken Helion's place, looking over her with extreme detail.

"Luna…" Mor said wistfully. Mor shifted closer, reaching for the girl but Rhysand stopped her.

"She's going in and out," Rhysand explained emptily, as a tear tell down Mor's cheek. Clearly, they had been close. "I tried touching her and…" Feyre's face hardened.

"We are going to fix this," Feyre promised. "We will take her home." And there was a deathly tone in her voice. Like she'd go through hell, kill a thousand people, burn down an entire kingdom, to achieve this. Amren's head shot towards Helion sharply. Helion, alike to Jurian, looked tense.

"You said she's bound?" Amren asked Helion. Helion nodded.

"That's what I see," Helion said, his voice still filled with a hint of doubt. "But I can't see past that. I don't know what she's bound to – this kingdom, this sickness, _him_. I just see a string." They all turned towards me, their eyes filled with so many emotions that I couldn't depict all of them. Some looked murderous, some looked pleading. All I knew though was that not a single one of them cared about what would happen to me.

"And you found her in the woods?" Amren asked us – me. I nodded curtly. Her eyes squinted.

"A day after Calanmai, she decides to come back," Amren whispered to herself. She looked down at Luna, who looked oddly peaceful in her sleep. "Calanmai, a Spring celebration…Calanmai, the most important day of the year for the man that murdered her." The last few words felt like a dagger in the gut.

"Wake her up," Amren said suddenly, snarling at Helion. Helion's jaw tightened.

"No! We will not bargain her life," I objected. "This is my court!"

"She needs to sleep," Helion added wildly, pointing towards Luna. She looked so fragile, so breakable. "She can barely breathe. She needs to rest." But Amren wasn't asking, she was telling. Helion's eyes shot up at Rhysand.

"Rhysand, that's insane. She's sick. If you force her awake, she could die. We have to be gentle with her. We can't force her to exert energy she doesn't-"

"Amren," Rhysand whispered, his voice in the same tone. "This is my sister." But when Amren looked back at him, you could see the thousands of years in her eyes.

"Trust me, Rhys," she hissed. Rhysand hesitated but then he nodded to Helion.

"Wake her up," Rhysand spat. His voice was shaking when he said it. "If anybody can survive this, it's Luna." Helion's jaw clenched. I opened my mouth, ready to continue, but then his ending words rang in my ears. _It's Luna_. It was Luna, and who was I to say that she wasn't strong enough?

"I swear, you and your Night Court," Helion grumbled, not before noting my silence. But then he waved his fingers once more, letting the light shimmer over her like a blanket. I felt myself stepping back. I couldn't watch it – I couldn't watch her die again. Not now, not after I killed her, not in my own living room. But when her eyes opened, all she did was heave.

"Everything hurts," she gasped, her eyes wide. "Rhys-" Rhysand's mouth opened.

"How did you come back?" Amren interjected bluntly. Luna hesitated.

"What?" She whispered. It was meant to come out sharper but with Luna's weakness, the word came out softly. Amren took a step towards her, a lethal step. Rhysand snarled at Amren but she ignored him.

"Why did the Cauldron wake you?" Amren hissed. "The sooner you answer-"

" _Him_." Luna had pointed at me with her shaking pointer finger. As I held her tight gaze, I swallowed.

"Tamlin?" Amren replied, spitting my name in disgust. Luna eyelids flickered. Rhysand reached out to her, but then his hand dropped.

"Why would-" But then Helion stepped forward, washing his shaking hand over the girl again. Amren looked livid.

"I wasn't done-"

"And I'm trying to save her life," Helion said, his eyes nailing on Amren in disgust. "Like you said, you aren't a healer. I at least know how to bend the spells that are tangled inside her body. I will not let you test your luck with this girl after I've put so much energy in her so that she could stay alive." Amren held his gaze for a moment, undying anger spinning her eyes. I huffed underneath my breath. Rhys's crew always believed they were above us – the rest of the High Lords. It was infuriating.

"I agree with Helion," I said highly. Mor snorted.

"Nobody was asking for your opinion," she muttered. I took a step towards her. I noticed out of the corner of my eye, Azriel, the spymaster, took a dangerous step towards me as well. Cassian gripped his axe tighter in his hands. Rhys was too busy evaluating his sister to speak.

"You want her?" I asked her. "Take her. Go on. See how long she lasts before her screaming blows out your eardrums." Mor's eyes were blazing. She looked like she was ready to strike me – to let out whatever power she had, whatever power that made her impress Rhysand so much, right in my living room.

"Don't ever talk about Luna like that." And this time, it was from the man behind her, Cassian. I knew him well enough – he ran the Illyrian camps. When I was friends with Rhysand I had met him a few times, though when Cassian showed up permanently the friendship between Rhysand and I died fast. But I'd do it. I'd get in a war with them right here in my living room.

"For a group of people who win legendary wars, the lot of you really struggle to see what's in front of you, don't you?" Jurian bursted impatiently. "The Cauldron sent her to this court. The Cauldron sent her to the High Lord of Spring. There is no magic in the world that can fix that." For some reason, everybody had become silent. I had learned, through the past few weeks, Jurian had that effect. Maybe it was because of his history, maybe it was because he was good at hiding in the shadows, but when he spoke, people listened.

"It would make sense," Amren admitted bitterly, almost to herself. "The Cauldron had to find some way to bring her here. Some string. Why not use the High Lord of Spring?" Nothing had changed on Rhysand's face. But something made Feyre reach for him, her thin fingers softly touching his arm. There was a moment where they looked at each other, as if Rhysand was falling away and Feyre was the only thing tethering him to this earth.

"The Cauldron is non-negotiable," Amren muttered.

"How far? How far can we take her?" Rhysand asked. "How far do these spells normally work?" He was asking Helion now.

"Spells are about intentions," Helion explained, exhausted. "It's not necessarily a physical amount, it's philosophical. When you tried leaving, you had the intention of leaving Tamlin's court. As long as you keep them within the same area, not necessarily separated…"

"Then we take him with us." The words came from Rhysand. For the first time all day, he looked in one piece. As if now, due to his lovely mate's touch, he could be rational. Normal.

"I'll do no such thing," I blanched.

"We'll make a bargain," Feyre decided, swinging her head towards me. "What do you want? Name it, Tamlin." And she meant it. I knew she meant it. And I had a flashback now, with me saying the same thing to Rhysand not too long ago when he had Feyre. I would have given him anything for her. I would have given him my entire court.

"I don't make bargains with-"

But then I felt my throat choke. I opened my mouth, ready to speak, but nothing came out. My eyes widened.

"No more bargains," Rhysand snarled. "We aren't negotiating this."

"Rhys," Feyre said in a low voice, "we can't just-"

"Oh, sure we can," Rhysand said, flashing a razor-sharp smile. "Nobody will miss him. You choose, Tamlin. Where would you rather be – Under the Mountain or in a hole? Anywhere around my estate would be acceptable." As Feyre shot him a concerned look, I opened my mouth, but I was still choking. My magic was warping around me, trying to break against his barriers, but it was like water against glass.

"He's still the High Lord of Spring. There has to be another way," she countered.

"I have a dungeon under my townhome," Amren blurted, causing Mor to shoot her a look of bewilderment. Rhysand nodded at Amren idea in agreement. Feyre, to my surprise, pondered this.

"Or we can just send him to one of the Illyrian camps," Cassian offered. I fumed through my nose. "Luna likes those, yes? She can stay in one of the better areas of the camps and he can be target practice." Rhys shook his head quickly.

"No way in hell she's going to an Illyrian camp," Rhys said sternly. "She died in the mountains."

"Or we can just keep her here," Nesta said dryly. Everybody swung their heads towards her with one swoop, all of their mouths open in protest but Nesta interrupted them. "Look at the girl. She's not some helpless child. If she wants to stay here, let her stay here. Plus, I don't want that rat running around." She nodded to me earnestly. My eyes narrowed on her. Feyre scowled.

"I've lived here," she said quietly, her eyes far away. "Just because there aren't walls, it doesn't mean it's not a jail cell." I let out a breath. As much as I wanted to say otherwise, it still hurt. After everything I gave her, after everything I did, she still didn't see it.

"I saved you." And it wasn't until I said it aloud did I realize that I had finally broken through Rhysand's magic. Feyre's entire body tensed up.

"Don't worry, Feyre-darling, I can take care of that," Rhysand responded to her, his eyes looking at me like I was vermin. I let out a short chuckle.

"You can't take control of my own estate, Rhysand," I reminded him. He stepped towards me, dangerously close. As I rose my chin, he pecked at an invisible piece of dust on my shoulder.

"Try me," he purred.

"And where will that leave the Day Court?" Everybody looked at Helion. He was fuming.

" _What?_ " Rhysand clamored, bewilderment in his voice.

"The Night Court marching over here with hundreds of Illyrians, taking over his estate," Helion said, and his aura glowed brighter. "That will interfere with trade routes, international affairs." Rhysand's violet eyes narrowed.

"I'll only bring an army if I need to," Rhysand said, a cold smile on his face. Helion didn't even twitch.

"Do you think the Dawn Court is happy with you right now? They are our most prominent allies in trade and if they hear about this tyranny, they'll cut trade with us," Helion said, crossing his arms stubbornly. "And then I won't get my second castle." At first all Rhysand could do was blink at him.

"Your second castle?" Rhysand repeated, his violet eyes turning darker. "Your _second_ castle?" The humor in his voice was gone. And suddenly, I felt the old me, the 'me' before I was High Lord, rise to the surface. I felt the power in the room shift and I wasn't going to let go of it.

"Do you want a war, Rhysand?" I asked him in a soft voice. "Because I'll give it to you." And then he grew closer to me – to the point where I could feel his breath on my ear.

"I was bred for war," he told me, letting out a short chuckle. I stiffened.

"But she needs him." The words were sweet – tranquil, almost. It shattered the fight, the conflict between us, like a sharp knife going through glass. My eyes found the voice – Elain. Within the last few minutes, she had left her sister's side and was next to Lucien now. Lucien, I saw, looked sick. He was looking between me and Rhysand rapidly, not sure who to support in the argument.

Rhysand took a step away from me, his eyes shining when he looked at Elain. He trusted her, I realized. Though most of her words came out as rambles that didn't make sense, he trusted her.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his voice rasp. Elain didn't look fazed by Rhysand's tone, though Lucien's arms tightened around her.

"She came for him," She said aloud, her eyes far away as she looked at Rhysand. "They are bound. They are push and pull. Without one, there can't be another. That's why the Cauldron sent her. He is her mission. You can't interfere with fate." Rhysand gawked at her.

"The Cauldron can kiss my ass," Rhysand spat. Nesta's eyes narrowed on him.

"This is ridiculous," Nesta objected. "Rhys, your sister is alive. Congratulations. Helion, you are going to get your second castle, stop whining. Tamlin-" She paused for a moment. Her eyes didn't look blissful when she stared at me. "I don't like you. I really don't like you."

"Likewise," I muttered.

"But _apparently_ the Cauldron is so ill that it thinks you're an adequate person," she said dryly. "Which means, the both of you-" She looked between Rhysand and me. "Are going to have to grow the hell up and realize that this isn't some damn competition. She's going to stay here, and Tamlin isn't going to be held hostage, and nobody is causing some obscene, unnecessary war. The most important thing is Luna's wellbeing and hell, if she wants to come back from the dead just to hang out with Tamlin, who are you to stop her?" Rhysand was silent as she looked between us.

"We can't just leave her here," Cassian told Nesta quietly, his eyes on the ground. And for just a moment, Nesta's eyes softened.

"She'll be fine," Nesta said, her eyes on Luna stonily. "After all, she's one of us."

~*~ discidium ~*~ 

Not long after that, we agreed to a (conditional) truce. I wouldn't be held hostage, Luna wouldn't be dragged away, and no war would be declared (for now). Helion had given his goodbyes, not without hitting on Azriel and Mor, and told the rest of us that, unless Luna was dying (again), to not contact him. Once that was all agreed upon, I found myself in a quiet room with all of them. It wasn't an argument on whether I deserved to be in a room with her. I didn't. So, I excused myself quietly and roamed towards a nearby room. There was a hole in the hall, a perfect place to watch them in case they decided to plot against me once again.

It was only a moment later did they all begin talking again. A few were sniffling as they went around Luna, whimpering quietly. But then the serious conversation began.

"Why would her being murdered by him bind _them_ together?" Amren demanded. "Fae laws aren't karmic. She wouldn't show up here simply because they had negative interactions in the past. The Cauldron doesn't look at things that superficial. It acts upon deeper connections, deeper…" And then her voice lingered away. Rhys's head snapped towards her. Feyre's eyes widened.

"No," he whispered. "That's insane, Amren." The rest of the group seemed confused for a moment and then Mor's hand flew to her lips, Azriel's shadows tightened around him, Cassian sat straighter in his chair. Nesta sneered at the rest of them.

"What?" She snapped. "Deeper _what_?"

"Mates," Amren spat, as if the word itself was bitter. "They're mates. Except neither of them know it." I inhaled raggedly. My knees were suddenly very weak. _No_ , I thought.

"So what are we supposed to do now?" Mor bemoaned. "It's not like he'll let us stay here. We'd have to tie him up to do it." Amren shook her head – not because she didn't know, but because she didn't like it.

"We leave her here," Rhysand said lowly. "We have to. She's the mate of the High Lord of Spring. It's her only chance at recovery." And at that I turned away sharply. I couldn't listen to anymore, not now. I walked towards the thin staircase that was attached to the inside of the room and walked into the dark loft that hovered above it. And I didn't leave until I knew that the sun had dropped and stars were shining.

~*~ discidium ~*~

When I walked out of the room, I found Rhysand still at Luna's side. He was on his knees next to her face, stroking her hair softly. I felt my feet go towards him slowly, still unsure on what to do. Obviously, I couldn't just leave Rhysand here in the middle of my living room. On the other hand, I didn't want to spend any more time with him alone than I already had to.

"Don't be shy," Rhysand drawled, not even bothering to look over at me. "I don't bite." My mouth turned into a tight line as I grew closer. I didn't stop until I was in reaching distance of Luna. She looked so breakable – fragile, as her body sunk into the white couch. She was so thin, so petite. I had forgotten how tiny she was.

"Where's your inner circle?" I asked hesitantly. At first he didn't answer, just stared down at his sister emptily.

He looked tired. Bags hung under his eyes and his face looked sallow. His lips had little color and his eyes were bloodshot. For just a moment, he even looked human.

"I forced them to go home," he replied emptily.

"And Feyre?" I asked, failing to hide the disdain in my voice. "She is your mate, after all."

"Her leaving was the only way I could convince them to go home."

"I…I'm sorry," I heard myself say, though I wasn't sure why I was bothering to say it. He gave out a small laugh.

"Oh, don't say sorry," he replied. "They'll be back bright and early tomorrow morning." My face dropped.

"Yes, we will need to make a plan for that," I said, my arms crossing. "I can't exactly have you stomping around my house every day. I do have thing things to do and-"

"Tomorrow," he said. "Tomorrow we will talk about it. Tonight, let me be with my sister." And then I didn't know what to say. I had never heard him sound so broken, not in all the days I've known him. He was always good at keeping it together, using his cunningness as a shield. But tonight, he didn't have the energy to hold it up.

"When did you know?" He asked. There was nothing in his voice – no anger, no resentment, no rivalry. But when he said it, his voice was hoarse. As if it hurt to ask, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"When did I know what?" And then he looked up at me. His violet eyes looked so much like hers, I thought. So brilliant and yet intimidating all the same. I understood why Feyre longed for them, why she found them dazzling. And maybe that's when I first began hating him. Maybe that's what truly fueled the first fight, centuries ago. He and his sister could have been twins – both remarkable in beauty but terrifying to approach. Every time I looked at him, I not only saw the devious warrior who took away everything, but I also saw her.

"You know what I'm talking about," he said, an edge to his voice now. "I felt it the second you took her from my arms. You're her mate. But…you already knew that, didn't you?" And for just that moment, he wasn't the High Lord of Night. He wasn't the son of Tiberius and he wasn't the man who stole the woman I loved, who fucked the woman who tortured me, who tried taking away my kingdom inch by inch. He wasn't the man who berated me during my own wedding, he wasn't the man who silenced me in the Winter Court, and he wasn't the man who tortured me in every way possible. Instead, he was the man who I fought next to, who taught me how to woo woman, who got me through the worst of times, and reflected the same broken look in my eyes when we became High Lords.

"In the end. When she was dying in my arms, praying to the Cauldron that she save us both. I took away the pain for her, I pulled it from the bond and I made sure she didn't have to bear it." Tears formed in my eyes. "But the worst part is I think she knew before I did. I think she always knew."

Rhysand was silent for a moment, scanning me.

"You'll be better," Rhysand said, his voice cold as ice. "You'll be fucking better to her, Tamlin." I held his gaze – his tight, violet gaze.

"I know," I said.

~*~*~ discidium ~*~*~

I'm actually deeply curious about people's opinions on this chapter. I want to remind people though that this IS in Tamlin's perspective. Rhysand reaction might have seen irrational, but this is in Tamlin's point of view.

Anyways, leave a review. Pretty please with cherries on top. I promise I'll love you lots. 3


	5. Chapter 5

_"I don't think he's here." It was past midnight. The full moon was shining brightly but the breeze – that cold breeze. It was maddening. And while the two tents stood in front of me, I couldn't imagine anyone of rank living there._

 _"Is it too cold for you, Tamlin?" It only took the sound of my voice to feel the ripple inside of me. I looked at that boy next to me. While I reflected the looks of my mother, he reflected the looks of my father perfectly. It was unnerving, I thought, how the dusty brown-haired boy nearly looked identical to our father. And he didn't act that different either. His brother's eyes had grown larger, almost like the full moon, when he saw the tents in front of him._

 _"Think about it," I spat back. "Don't you think the son of the High Lord would be somewhere a little bit better off? He runs his own legion, Cameron. That tent looks like…that tent is no tent made by an Illyrian warrior. It's probably just some Lord."_

" _There were ten sentries surrounding the areas," Cameron argued, motioning to the dead bodies around me. Their blood didn't even look like liquid – it looked like a blanket in the snow. They weren't exactly the best of the sentries, we had taken them all out in five minutes without waking the individuals in the tent. "Ten." I shook my head at him._

" _You don't know Rhysand like I do," I replied. "If he was here, he would have already heard your quarreling. Plus, he doesn't even use sentries. He thinks he's too good for it." I began to turn away, my feet nearly numb from the snow, but then I felt Cameron's hand clamp onto my back. He spun me around, pushing me against a tree. But the moment my back felt the bark behind me, I twisted his hand and he scurried back, cursing._

 _"Tamlin, what the-" I took a dangerous step close to him._

 _"Do not touch me," I said slowly, my voice low but as crisp as the cold air. Cameron let out a laugh as he grabbed at his hand._

 _"Fine," he breathed. "Go on, then. Like the scared little girl you are." My eyes narrowed on him._

 _"We're leaving," I told him now, a direct order. "Father put me in charge. Now go." And then we were at a stalemate. He held my tight gaze for a moment._

 _"You really want to go?" He asked tightly. I didn't even reply, just stared at him harshly. He exhaled deeply._

 _"Fine, but let me take a piss first."_

 _"Cameron, at least let us get a mile away so in case someone wakes up-"_

 _"If someone wakes up then I'll take care of it, alright?" He snapped. "Just go." I shook my head at him, following the trail of blood that we had made going into the clearing. Ever since we were ordered to go on this trip, my brother was obsessed with the idea of killing Rhysand. I had told my father that it was miserable idea – what would happen to us if we killed the Night Court's son? We didn't have the resources to fight the Night Court. We were better making an alliance. But as soon as I said no, he went to Cameron and I couldn't just walk away. I was too damn stubborn to turn down the opportunity._

 _Suddenly, I turned back around._

 _"Cameron, it doesn't take that long to take a-" But then I saw him creep towards one of the tents. Quickly, I rushed towards him. I grabbed onto him just as he was about to reach the flap, but he swung a dagger towards me. I stumbled back._

 _"Cameron, put that away. You don't want to-"_

 _"I'm going into that tent," Cameron seethed. His eyes were flashing. "And your cowardice isn't going to stop me." We held each other's gazes for a moment. He wasn't going to walk away, I realized._

 _"Fine," I agreed slowly. "But we go in together." He rolled his eyes at me but then agreed. I went in first, slowly opening the flap. It was insanely cold in the tent, proving that whoever lived here was clearly used to the blistering cold. But I saw the white blonde hair that flowed over the pillow. It was probably just a local Illyrian traveling through the mountains, not bothering to hide their tracks. Slowly, I went towards the sleeping individual but when I saw its face, my mouth went ajar._

 _"Semele."_

 _Her eyes opened the same time I gaped. She scrambled up, fear overcoming her for a moment. She dodged for the knife next to her but I was faster. I kicked it out of her hand, letting it fly to the other side of tent. And then, as her eyes looked at the dagger in the distance, her face softened. The fear washed away and her chin rose._

 _"You know who this is, Tamlin?" My brother cooed. His eyes were dancing. I didn't say a word – just held the woman's gaze silently. She was far different than our mother, smarter to say the least. I had seen this woman at meetings, forming solutions aloud in front of a dozen men. Majority of the time her husband would bark at her to be silent, but her responses were always cunning. Calculating. And there was a certain amount of respect that I had for her at that moment. My mother was always so critical of Semele's boldness, saying that if she wanted to declare her opinion so much than she should have stayed with the barbaric Illyrians. The world of Higher Fae wasn't meant for her._

 _My mouth went dry._

 _"You came here for my son, didn't you?" She asked, her voice chillingly calm. My brother smirked, his dagger tight in his hand. As I eyed it, I wanted to tell him that he was holding it at the wrong angle. He would never be able to have a killer strike if he held it like that._

 _"Where is he?" Cameron demanded. She didn't even blink._

 _"Not here," she said flatly. "He was supposed to come but he had to make a detour." I hesitated now. My head swung towards him._

 _"See, he's not-"_

 _"Imagine," Cameron said under his breath, his hazel eyes twinkling. "Imagine the look in his eyes when he finds out his mother is dead." My eyes widened._

 _"We don't do that," I replied fast. "She's a woman. We don't kill women."_

 _"Why? Because you're too weak to stomach it?" Cameron spat. My face tightened._

 _"I'm not weak!" I yelled finally. My head whipped towards the woman. She hadn't moved an inch. Instead, her eyes stayed on mine evenly._

 _"You killed all the sentries?" She asked me, her voice as soft as a feather. When I didn't respond, she understood the answer. I waited for the dread to wash over her face but she simply looked at me. For some odd reason, there was no fear in her eyes._

 _"You do know if you kill me," Her voice was distant, "he'll kill you?" She said it so casually, as if she was just talking about the weather. My fingers tightened around the hilt of my dagger._

 _"Rhysand isn't going to kill me," I told her. She shook her head lightly. And there was something close to pity on her face._

 _"Not Rhysand. My husband. He will not stop until everybody you know, everybody you love, is dead. And he'll do it with his own hand." And it wasn't a threat or a tactic to save her life. It was a warning, a genuine warning. And I had heard about their love. Her husband was obsessive, some said he loved her more than he loved his own children. She was the most beautiful wife out of all the High Lords' wives and he took pride in it. He wore her like a trophy on his arm._

 _And I hesitated. Because she was right – Tiberius was ruthless. He wasn't as strong as his son but there was an anger in him that was irrational. Something worse than the cocky, prodigious Illyrian that his son was._

 _"Hey, Tamlin, who do you think is in the other tent?" It came from Cameron. I looked at him, my lips curled upward._

 _"Probably a maid," I snapped impatiently. But when I looked at Semele, she looked stricken._

 _"Who is that?" I snarled, whipping my dagger towards her. She didn't even flinch._

 _"My lady in waiting," she spilled, not skipping a beat. "She's pregnant. A commoner. She's not worth your time." And so I looked at Cameron, shaking my head. Don't._

 _But his eyes kept lingering at the tent, his attention now off Semele._

 _"What are you waiting for?" She snapped suddenly. There was something desperate in her tone. "If you don't kill me now, you won't have time to find Rhysand. He's still in the mountains." But then I hesitated again._

 _"He's still in the mountains?" I repeated. "And why would you ever tell me that?"_

 _"Why would I let my son turn away from a fight?" She replied, with the identical tone. But Cameron scoffed._

 _"She's lying…" Cameron whispered, a smile on his face. An anxiety suddenly went through me, remembering the split-second terror that had been on the Lady of Night's face. For once, Cameron was right. Someone was in there, I realized. And it wasn't a lady in waiting._

 _Before Cameron could look back at her, I swung my dagger, slicing the woman's throat. Blood sprayed into my face but I didn't stutter. It was just a woman, I told myself. Just a woman._

 _"See. It's done. Let's go-" But he had already made it to the other tent. I cursed under my breath._

 _"Cameron!" I bellowed. "Rhysand is still out there. We are not going to waste our time with some-" And then I looked over his shoulder. And I could have sworn, within one moment, my whole world collapsed. My knees had grown weak, and I could no longer feel the chill in the air. All I could do was stare._

 _He was smiling. A cruel smile._

 _"No," I breathed. "We are not touching her." Luna was on her feet. Like her mother, she didn't look afraid. But she was weaponless. She was backed into a corner. Her eyes looked at me. I could barely look back._

 _Why? I now thought angrily. Why would her father ever let her go without being certain that Rhysand would meet her here? Was he that much of a fool? Did he not care about his daughter? His wife?_

 _"Tamlin?" She asked, breathless as she leaned towards us. It had been years since she's seen me. Somehow, she looked the same but entirely different. Her dark hair was braided around her shoulder and her eyes, violet, looked terrifying with the candle light flickering. Though her features hadn't changed at all, something about her looked older. "Why are you in the Illyrian mountains? What happened? There's blood all over you..." My mouth was ajar. I looked at Cameron._

 _"Cameron, this has gone too far," I snarled, my fangs coming out. He flinched when he saw them, a trait he had never inherited, but his nose flared._

 _"Don't you want that asshole to get what he deserves?" Cameron sneered. "Always strutting around, acting like he's better than the rest of us. Shouldn't we show him who wins?" And then Luna took a small step towards us. I looked between them quickly._

 _"Are you talking about my brother? Rhysand?" She asked, and she bared her teeth at me threateningly "Where's my mother? Did you…did you hurt her, Tamlin? Has your rivalry gone that low?" And her words, at the end, were quiet. So quiet that it was chilling. Those last few words would haunt me for years._

 _My head turned to Cameron. He looked like he had just found the jackpot._

 _"Forget Rhysand," I hissed at him. "He barely even knows his sister. He wouldn't care if she died." It was lie. It was a huge lie. But Cameron didn't know that._

 _"But she's just so damn pretty, isn't she?" Cameron spat at her. She seethed. "Like a porcelain doll." And then I turned my dagger towards him, only an inch away from his throat. He looked at me wildly. Even a bit fearful. Because he knew I could do it, I could slice his throat before he could even tilt his dagger towards me._

 _"This is over," I told him. "We aren't doing this, Cameron."_

 _"You would hurt me? Your own brother?"_

 _"I-If it stops you from hurting her, yes."_

 _"Why? Because she's your stupid whore?" My dagger loosened in my hand. The words felt like a slap in the face._

 _"What the hell are you talk-"_

 _"Well, that's why you care, right?" He asked. "Because you fucked her?" My face drained._

 _"That's-I wouldn't-"_

 _"Then you would mind if I…"_

I bolted upright. Sweat was pouring down me, covering my face. I glanced at the large windows behind me. The sun had finally peaked over the hills and I took in a ragged breath. My head was bleating and all I could see was her violet eyes. And then I remembered that it wasn't just a dream, her eyes were alive. She was still here, in my castle, breathing. I got to my feet, not even bothering to put on a shirt as I walked out of my room. From down the hall, I could hear a range of voices fight to be heard.

"Oh my Cauldron-" I began to walk towards the voices.

"Luna-"

"We're never letting you go. Never, ever again."

When I met the doorway, I froze. Luna was awake. She was sitting up in the bed, her cheeks beginning to have color and her eyelids no longer flickering. The purple bags under her eyes were gone and her fingertips, as she kept running them through her dark hair, were no longer green. For the first time since I saw her, she looked alive. She still winced whenever someone spoke too loudly and her body was recoiled tightly as if she was trying to get away from the crowd around her bed. But all of the inner-circle was there again, chattering quickly. Rhysand was quiet as he sat back, his eyes looking heavy. Relieved, but heavy. The rest were sitting on different chairs taken from other rooms and none of them even noticed me as I leaned my body against the doorway, sticking my hands in my pockets.

"Luna, gah! I missed your hair so much," Mor squeaked, grabbing at her dark hair. Luna flinched slightly. I noticed that she had changed her clothes from the formal black dress to a dark, cotton gown.

"Let go of her!" Amren growled, swatting at her hand. Mor pursed her lips. "I finally found a spell that would help her heal. I don't need you making her recoil." Mor's arms crossed against her chest.

"I'm just excited that I finally have another girl here," Mor babbled. "I mean, a girl who is actually girly, I mean." Mor shot looks at the rest of the females there.

"I'm girly," Elain objected. Mor rolled her eyes.

"You're modest," Mor corrected. "There's a difference."

"Don't worry, Mor," Rhysand interjected, a ghost of a smile on his lips, "you'll have the rest of eternity to play dollhouse with her." Mor narrowed her eyes on him, but he looked too happy to care. Feyre was standing close to him, her hand on top of his. For whatever reason, she didn't join the tight circle that hovered around Luna. She looked reluctant, maybe even scared.

"We should probably update her on the last few centuries before we make any playdates," Cassian said, leaning back in his chair on the back two legs. "After all, we have to explain why _she's_ here." He looked down at Nesta who was seated next to him and she scowled.

"We'll have time for that later," Rhysand said, his eyes shining. "Let her-"

"No," Luna objected. Everybody in the room stopped – it was as if a porcelain doll had spoken. "I want to know what's happened since I…" Her voice lingered off into the distance.

"You cut your hair." And then I realized she was looking at me. Everybody swung towards me immediately. Cassian pulled out a knife instinctively and Azriel's chilling eyes were on me like a hawk. It was Nesta's gaze though, sharp and without mercy, that made me choke.

"I…" My hand went to my hair, feeling the ends curl around my ear. "When I came back from the war, there was so much blood in it. I just thought it would be easier to cut it all off." There was a moment of quietness, her eyes looking at me deeply.

"What a shame," she replied. "It was beautiful." Everybody scanned her for a moment, the silence filling the room like a cloud of smoke. My fingers gripped the doorframe that I was leaning on, trying to grasp for something incase my knees buckled. Her eyes were so daunting, so hard to look at without thinking about every mistake I have ever made.

"Everything has changed," she whispered, her eyes falling to her lap. But then it was Azriel who walked towards her, putting his scarred hand on top of hers. There were tears in her eyes when she looked up at him.

"Yes, it has," he said softly. "But that's why we're here. So we can tell you about it." She let out a shakey breath but then nodded.

"Rhys…" she said, turning towards him. "Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning." Rhysand looked at me, his eyes hard. Because the story started with us – when I killed her. And it wasn't that he was looking for my permission, but almost as if he was waiting for me to jump in.

"It started when our father sought vengeance," Rhysand decided to say, looking at Luna solemnly. "After you died…" And he told her every single detail. Even when my eyes grew narrow and I felt like I would have to leave the room, he still kept going. He told her about the beginning of his reign, and how he outed many of the powerful Night Court lords. He told her about the consequences of his choices, but how it only made them stronger. He then went on to Amarantha, and the prophecy. He explained that he went Under the Mountain and while he didn't tell her his duties, he told her it was unbearable. Feyre had reached out to him, but his fingers curled up. Almost like he was there all over again.

"And then Feyre happened…" And the way he said it, the way his voice broke, he wasn't wrong. Feyre, despite our issues, changed everything. And we all looked at her, because nobody was capable of telling her story. Only she could tell her story. She looked around at her family, at her inner-circle, and her body seemed to grow smaller.

"It started here, right in this room," she began quietly. I looked around, suddenly realizing that it did in fact start here. It was her original room. After the war ended, I renovated majority of the castle. I hadn't noticed that this was her room until she said it. And when she started her story, I expected her to antagonize me, to insult me, but she didn't.

"He's the one that found me," she said, nodding in my direction. Luna didn't say anything, just stared at her patiently. I had expected more surprise – but nothing. "Looking back on it, I was the mortal that the Cauldron picked. I was the girl who was meant to fight Amarantha."

"You loved him?" Luna asked, her voice oddly sharp. "And what about Rhysand?" And Feyre didn't even hesitate when she replied.

"I did," Feyre admitted. "And Rhysand…we had a different relationship." And she didn't hide anything. She told her about Calanmai, with details that I had never known, and then she told her about how she went Under the Mountain and fought Amarantha in the name of our love. She told her about the risks she took and the fear we both went through, but she also talked about Rhysand and how he helped her, though there was a cost. She told him their love wasn't immediate, but he felt it and he didn't dare let her go. She told her about how turning Fae almost broke her and maybe, if she hadn't turned Fae, we could have made it. But we didn't.

"I left," Feyre croaked, and her next words were strained. "Maybe not the best way for him, but it was the only way I could." And while she talked, she didn't talk about me. She talked about them. She talked about how she found her family and how she found out who she was. She talked about how she fell in love with each and every one of them, with each story being different. And she told her that when she found out Rhysand was her mate, everything came together and not only did she accept the bond, but he gave her a title that changed everything. She told her that it didn't come without scrutiny but she knew she was meant to have it.

"And then she came back to the Spring Court," I said aloud, though there was no anger in my voice. "And the High Lords learned how powerful she truly was." Feyre held my gaze for a moment, hesitating, but then she talked about meeting Hybern and what he did to a court she had once loved. She told her that that's when she decided Hybern wouldn't just die – he and everything he loved would be destroyed. She talked about Jurian and Lucien and the twins. She told her that when she left, she made sure that Hybern knew how terrifying she could be so that when he touched the Night Court, he would be fearful. She told her about the battle and how her sister swayed the rest of the courts to fight.

"And in the end, it was like the beginning," Feyre croaked. "Tamlin and I fought next to each other. And without him, neither I nor my mate would be alive." Rhysand mumbled something under his breath and Feyre giggled. Luna's lips were pressed together firmly.

"And you're the reason I'm back," Luna snipped, her voice cold. "The three of you Archeon sisters. You're the reason I'm alive. In this body, _suffering_." Feyre flinched back but Rhysand leaned closer to Luna, holding Feyre's fingers tightly.

"It's not Feyre's fault. She didn't know-"

"No," Luna snapped. "But because of her actions, I'm a corpse brought back to life." Rhysand's face had tightened.

"I understand your anger but-"

"You don't!" Luna said, her voice breaking. "That's the problem, Rhys. You don't understand my anger. That thing you are with-"

"That _thing_ is my mate!" Rhysand bursted, jumping to his feet. His eyes were bloodshot. And for just that moment, I wondered if he had gotten any sleep at all, or if he had just been hovering over her body all night long. "And I will not sit here and let you insult her, Luna."

"It's okay," Feyre interrupted quietly, her eyes on the ground. "She's right, Rhys. I shouldn't even be here." Her hands slipped away from him but his face slackened. He reached out for her but she pulled away.

"No, Feyre, please-" But she brushed away from him, not even looking back as he made a sound of protest.

"Feyre, hold on," Mor said, standing up, but Feyre put her hand up towards her.

"Stay," she said firmly, and this time it was an order. "I'll…I'll be downstairs." She didn't look at me when she walked through the doorway.

My eyes turned to Rhysand, expecting him to go after her despite her commands, but he didn't. His hand was still in the air though, as if he was waiting for her to come back. He took a deep, shaky breath as his hand fell to his side. Luna swallowed but her chin rose high when her brother met eyes with her again.

"Why did you have to do that?" Rhysand demanded, cutting each word sharp. "She's family, Lu."

"Family?" Luna said, laughing at the word as tears filled her eyes. "She's not family. She just some girl who saved your ass." Rhysand looked bewildered.

"Yeah, yeah, maybe she is," Rhysand said, his eyes cold as night. "But she's also so much more. You have to give her a chance." And it almost sounded like he was begging. Like he couldn't live in a world where she didn't like her. Despite the fact that he had be tortured in every way possible, this would be the worst. This would be the thing that broke him.

"No," Luna said. "I don't." Rhysand was perplexed. His mouth was ajar.

"Luna," Mor interrupted, and she was struggling from losing patience, "I can't imagine my life without Feyre. She's one of us." And then I turned away, leaving the crowd of people silently. I couldn't hear it anymore – not the bickering at least. And Luna… _alive_. It was like a dagger to the heart with each and every breath.

I started towards Jurian's room. He was, to my surprise, the only person I hadn't seen and despite the fact that Jurian irritated me to no end, it made me feel uneasy. When was the last time he hadn't woken me up in the morning? He was always in my doorway, complaining about something and yet it was _Rhysand_ who waked me up. And then my pace began to quicken because…something must be really wrong if Jurian wasn't the one who woke me up.

But then I saw her.

It was stupid for me, I realized quickly, to leave just as Feyre left. I had assumed she would be in the living room but no – she was here. Looking out the window that showed the beautiful scenery behind my estate. Reflecting the beautiful skies, the colorful gardens that were filled with countless fruits, overseeing the many servants who were giggling to one another. There was nothing on her face that looked at it longingly, but she was mesmerized.

"I made a painting just like this once," she said, her voice small. "The Spring Court except…better. More colorful, happy. With people smiling and children playing in the garden and a sun that shined far brighter than it ever had. And you hated it because you knew before I did that it wasn't the Spring Court I was painting at all. I didn't know I was painting somewhere else, somewhere that was merely a dream in my head, until I left." I didn't say anything. I had nothing left to say. I was _tired_ of having this argument continuously _._ My court had lacked many things at the time, yes, but I couldn't control that. And I knew if I replied, my words would only be vicious and cruel, so I didn't speak.

"It looks close to that painting now, though. Something better," Feyre said, and it almost sounded like a compliment. A back-handed compliment, but a compliment all the same.

"I told you it would get better." It was all I could say. I had imagined this moment before – her coming back from the Night Court and her precious mate and realizing what she had missed. But when I looked at her now, I knew in her eyes that she didn't want to come back. She was merely in awe of how it transformed. Maybe even a little bit proud.

"Elain likes it," she went on. "She won't admit it to me because she's too nice to do so, but it reminds her of her home. She'll like the Day Court even more, I think. Ever since she heard Lucien was Helion's son, something clicked. Like suddenly she longed for him. She was made for this kind of world…sunshine and valleys and gardens filled with every fruit and vegetable possible. It was her dream." And at this point I realized she wasn't even talking to me anymore. She was talking to herself.

"I could live with that. Her leaving to live in the Day Court, being with her mate, being _happy_ ," Feyre said. "But I don't know if Nesta can handle being without her. And Cassian…he would rather die than leave the Night Court. I can feel the fear in him every time he looks at her, wondering if Nesta will leave with Elain and he'll have to choose. Did you know he's proposed to her eight times? Eight times and he might lose her because of the Cauldron all over again."

"Lucien isn't going to leave anytime soon," I found myself saying. Not necessarily to comfort her, but to remind her. "He'll try to stay here as long as possible, using Luna as an excuse to not go to the Day Court until he has to. He only took the opportunity because Eris baited him." Her eyes nailed on me coldly.

"And will you let him?" She asked, her voice sharp now. "Stay here, in the Spring Court until Helion dies?" I was quiet for a moment. Truthfully, I didn't know. I was no longer angry and clearly, despite all of the things I hid from him, he wasn't angry at me. And I had seen him around Rhysand's inner-circle – he didn't love them like Feyre loved them. Helion was right that Rhysand could show him beautiful things, a beautiful life where he would be content, but he wasn't meant to be there. He was meant to rule.

And I also knew deep down that Helion, despite what he said, wanted him _here_ , not in the Day Court. If Lucien stayed here, it would be easier to communicate with him without causing tension. And, to be realistic, Helion still wants to keep tabs on the situation with Luna. He could get updated out of Lucien regularly if he needed to.

"That's not concern for the Night Court," I replied, but my words came out as a whisper. Feyre pretended not to hear my bullshitted response, staring at me stiffly. I sighed tiredly, looking into the hills.

"Eris made a point yesterday that Helion doesn't actually care about Lucien. And I agree - I don't trust Helion. Not enough, at least," I said, my hands clamped behind my back tightly. "If something happens with the Cauldron…if it gets better and he stops being ill…I don't trust Helion to not hurt him."

"The Night Court would defend him," she told me. I glanced at her and her eyes looked at me pointedly. I didn't disagree. I was sure she would – and she would destroy the Spring Court to do it.

I laughed at this. A bitter laugh.

"You think I'm saying I would just send a couple of sentries over there," I said in a low voice. "The Night Court isn't the only court that sees their court members as a family. You forget that Lucien was barely a man when he came over here. He was only seventeen when his brothers drove him out. I practically raised him." And she only looked at me. She didn't even say a word.

"I would hunt him down," I told her. "I would end Helion with my own hand if he killed Lucien."

"I never knew," she whispered, though she sounded unsure of my words. Like she didn't necessarily believe that I ever loved him at all.

"I didn't either until he left." And the words hung in the air for a moment, as we both digested what I said aloud. It was like finally addressing the big elephant in the room – you left, I wanted to say, _but he left too_. And the truth is, I loved her. I loved her so much that it was obsessive and I sought her out like a predator seeks out prey. But Lucien? It was like losing an arm. He wasn't just my best friend, he was the closest thing I had to a son. And I didn't realize that until it was too late.

"Well, now you have another chance," Feyre gritted between her teeth. My eyes narrowed on her.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" I asked slowly. She blinked at me once before responding.

"You're going to do better," Feyre told me, her voice rising slightly. "You will do better this time, Tamlin. You will not abuse him like you did before, you will not take advantage out of him." My nostrils flared.

"You of all people don't get to call me out on that after all that you did-" But then something weird happened. She stumbled back, her face phasing out for just a moment. She took in a ragged breath.

"Feyre…?" I asked slowly, the anger dissolving instantly. "Feyre, are you…" And then she blinked at me.

"I have to go," she snapped. "We'll finish this conversation later." And before I could ask anything more, to let out the words I so deeply wanted to roar at her, she winnowed away.

~*~ Discidium ~*~

Feyre's cruel words mocked me in my head over and over. Soon after she disappeared, I stomped back upstairs angrily, rushing towards Luna's room.

"You are all leaving," I began saying, "I told you all that we would do this in an organized manner and-" But when I looked inside the room, it was only Luna and Azriel. Luna sat up calmly, blinking at me. Azriel shot me a look. And then I felt a tug inside me – a small string as I looked at the small gap between Azriel and Luna. It wasn't necessarily jealousy like I would have had with Feyre, but it was instinct to look at it. To have a burning sensation inside me saying that the image of him, so close to her, was wrong. Like all of my biological senses was saying that something unnatural was happening, seeing the small gap between them. That the small gap shouldn't be that small.

"Where did everyone go?" I asked stupidly, forcing my eyes to look at Azriel. He lifted up one eyebrow.

"I would offer to show you but you may not come back," Azriel said, his voice low. Luna tilted her head at him sympathetically, reaching for his scarred hands.

"Your High Lord told me that today he would assist me in making a plan on who goes in and out of this household, and while I had the compassion to let him grieve and allow his inner circle-" But then Azriel let out a short laugh. Not a mocking laugh that would come out of Rhysand, but a short chuckle that a man would make before cutting off someone's hand. A laugh of impatience. A laugh that would make anyone freeze in their tracks and scream for help.

"Don't be so cruel, Azriel. After all, he is quite cute," Luna said. My cheeks heated up, my body stilling. Azriel's eyes shot towards her, looking at her with disdain.

"Stop flirting with a man who killed you," Azriel said back, his voice light but brotherly. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm not flirting. I'm lightening the mood," She told him. "Say, Azriel, can you go downstairs and get me something to drink? I'm sure you know where the kitchen is." My eyebrows furrowed down as Azriel rose from his seat obediently. Maybe it was because he got up so easily, or that he did in fact know where the kitchen was, but I stammered.

"I do have servants, you know," I scoffed.

Azriel, as he brushed past me, whispered into my ear, "Not anymore. I dismissed them." And before I could muster any words, he walked away from me coolly. I looked at his flickering shadows that still followed him out of the room and then to Luna. My mouth was ajar.

"This can't stand," I snarled at Luna. "I cannot condone-"

"If you want to be angry at Rhysand, be angry at Rhysand," she muttered. "But don't get angry at Azriel. He is the one I need right now." I shook my head slowly.

"So much has changed since you left," I said softly. "These people…your family. They're different. Worse than they were before. If you knew half of the things they have done-"

"But I do, remember?" She snapped. "I heard the story. Or was that untrue? Did you not kill my father? Did you not fall in love with that mousey whore?"

"I had my reasons."

"I'm tired of people saying that," Luna said, strained but tired. "I'm tired of people saying they had their damn reasons. None of you had reasons. You all acted out impulsively." My eyes narrowed.

"Believe what you want," I growled. "But this is my home. You are in my home. That beast-"

"He was the only one who controlled himself!" Luna bursted. I shrunk back suddenly.

"Controlled himself?" I repeated. "He had always supported Rhysand's actions." She rose her chin at me.

"I saw his dreams. He dreamed of killing you in the most painful ways, Tamlin," she hissed. "For years. His vengeance was nothing like Rhysand's, he wanted to get his revenge separately, but he _didn't_. He knew what I would have wanted and he respected that. Out of the lot of you, he is the best. The purest. The one who truly honored me." And I didn't speak at first. A part of me was furious that a man who was now lingering in my home was also a man who wanted to do atrocious things to me, who plotted against me, but a curiosity spun in my stomach.

"And does he still? Have those dreams?" And then she blinked. It was as if all the anger washed from her face and her vulnerability finally showed.

"I-I don't know." And as we looked at each other for a moment, gazing into each other's eyes, I realized we had met one of those moments of silence that was incredibly loud. I felt that string tug at me again as I gazed at her. She looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. I used to feel gross thinking that, as she was my then-best friend's little sister, but I couldn't help but wonder _what if?_ What if she didn't die, what if Rhysand and I never became High Lords, what if I had pursued her when the time was right? If I had realized that she was my mate when I first met her, instead of feeling repulsed by my own attraction towards her, would any of this happen?

"Calanmai was real," I said aloud, nearly choking my words. "How?"

"I heard your voice calling me in the forest," she croaked. "So I came." I opened my mouth, about to say something, but whatever I would say I knew I wouldn't be able to take out so without another word, I turned around and walked out.

~*~ Discidium ~*~

"You're still lingering here, are you? Like a sad dog waiting for his master to pay attention to him? Pathetic."

"I am not lingering! Tamlin told us we could stay here-"

" _Before_ your friends blew open the doors to his estate."

"They didn't-I didn't know they'd do that!"

"That's what every spy says. Now grab your girl and the little firey dick you have and leave, Fox-Boy."

"Wait, _what_?! You think I'm a spy?"

"A bad one."

"Your opinion means shit, Jurian! I am not leaving until Tamlin says I have to go."

"Please, spare yourself the humiliation. It's getting old."

"He wants me here!"

"He does not!"

"He does!"

"He does not!"

"He's staying." The words came from me. Both of them turned around with a swift motion, their mouths slightly ajar as I leaned against the doorway of Lucien's room. Despite Lucien's objections, half of his clothes were already packed. Clearly, he didn't believe his own words. And while the scene was slightly amusing, I didn't want this petty conflict going on in my estate.

" _What?_ " They both said. I blinked at the both of them once.

"I thought you wanted to stay, Lucien," I said tightly. He blinked at me stupidly.

"I can stay?" He repeated, his voice cracking at the end. "Of-of course I'll stay. I mean, as long as Elain can stay. She can stay, can't she?"

"She's more useful than you are being right now," I muttered. He flushed with redness, swallowing. But his back straightened and he nodded curtly.

"Tamlin," Jurian objected in a hushed whisper, "don't be dull! He brought his stupid friends over here, broke all of the damn windows, and-"

"Quiet, Jurian." Jurian's mouth grew wider, too dumbstruck to reply. I shifted to Lucien.

"Your stay doesn't come without payment though, Lucien. I am allowing you to stay only because Helion doesn't want you at the Night Court and I know I'll be the first person who'll have to deal with his tantrums if you are not within reasonable distance of him. You'll spend your time here being an ambassador for the Night Court and will keep them _in line_. If Rhysand causes any unnecessary conflict, it'll be on your head." Jurian let out a stifled cough. I didn't so much as look at him.

"I-Of course, of course I will," Lucien stammered. "But if I am to stay here, I do need to go get Elain back from the Night Court. Do you mind if I-"

"Go," I shooed. "Godspeed, Lucien." And with one nod, he winnowed away. When I looked back at Jurian, he was red with fury.

"You can't possibly-"

"But I can," I said, stepping towards Jurian. He stilled, his nose flared. "This is my court, Jurian. If you cannot behave…"

"I'll behave," he drawled. "But can't we put him somewhere else? Possibly in the garden shed?" I looked at him impatiently.

"No," I replied. "We will not." He rolled his eyes.

"There is no such thing as keeping Rhysand in line, Tamlin. And if there is, Lucien sure as hell won't be the one who can do it."

"We'll see," I said. And then there was a quiet gap between us, not unlike what had happened between Luna and I. A part of me was tempted to leave, but I knew he wanted to say something. His eyes kept running over me, the fury that was once on his face now gone.

"Is she okay?" He asked quietly. I nodded curtly.

"She's better," I said, and then added bitterly, "In Rhysand's spymaster's hands, at least." Jurian's eyebrows perked up.

"Maybe he's the spy," Jurian offered, smirking. But I shook my head.

"They've always been close," I told him in a low voice. "Always…together, in their own way." Jurian's smirk disappeared. He reflected a worried look.

"What do you mean?" He asked. I inhaled deeply, trying to push down the luring discomfort inside me. All I could see in my mind was the small gap between them, the small space that I kept trying to forget.

"I'd forgotten how close they were. How…much they cared for each other."

"Romantically?" Jurian blurted, a bit of shock in his voice. "I knew the both of them but I had never seen any romantic connection."

"What they had was behind the scenes," I said, my voice strained. "Rhysand was an adult when his mother got pregnant with Luna, obviously, so he wasn't there when she was growing up. By the time Rhysand got into his twenties, his father practically banned him from court aside from the annual balls he hated so much. He really wasn't a brother to Luna, he barely knew his sister until she was an adult." Jurian's eyebrows furrowed down. He flicked an invisible piece of dust from his shoulder.

"Sad," Jurian drawled, though he didn't sound apologetic in the least, "but what does that have to do with Azriel?" I let out a breath before continuing, the boredom leaking out of my words.

"When the war came, years later, his father separated Rhysand from his friends because he feared that they would use his moment of weakness to take his throne. Cassian went to be a foot soldier, Rhysand got to command a small legion, and Azriel accompanied the High Lord at his court to be his spymaster. Azriel was at the estate often, going with him to vital meetings and coming straight back from missions to inform him of what was going on. During that time, Luna was born," I explained. "Luna once told me that her father was fond of the spymaster and almost saw him as a son of his own, in his own twisted way. A son he didn't have to be afraid of." Jurian looked mildly interested.

"Even after the war ended, Rhysand's father forced Azriel to serve at his court," I went on. "He saw how useful Azriel was and even though Rhysand resented him for it, his father exploited him for his gifts until the end of his reign. And so, through the many years that Azriel lurked through the halls, doing Tiberius's bidding, Luna grew close to him. Before she was a teenager, she had only met Rhysand a handful of times but Azriel? He saw her multiple times a week for years. They became close as she grew older." Jurian snorted.

"So what? They one day felt the sexual tension and snuck away in the middle of the night to have romantic sex?" Jurian asked, bemused. "The loyal friend fucking his best friend's little sister?" My jaw clenched at his words, thinking about her, my mate, in bed with someone else.

"No," I sneered. "Azriel became a brotherly figure. There were rumors that was Tiberius's intentions towards the end, sure. It made sense. I always wondered why he always delayed Luna's marital arrangement. But Tiberius was a calculating man. He knew of Azriel's love for Morrigan and Luna's inability to be tamed by a man. I'm sure all he was doing was waiting for the right moment to manipulate their companionship for his own selfish needs." Jurian probably heard the underlining anger in my voice, but he didn't say anything, just waited for more.

"And that's when I came along," I said, sighing deeply. "I was a good ten years older than her and I met her during the aftermath of Rhysand's capture. Years following the end of the war, Tiberius began to trust Rhysand again and pushed him to visit court regularly. Rhysand didn't like it but when he met me at a few court functions – I think it reminded him of Amarantha, so he used me for a scapegoat whenever I was available. And then, for just a while, there was all of us in Luna's life – Rhysand, the brother who finally decided to exist. Azriel, the brother who wasn't even her real brother but would die for her. And me, Rhysand's unlikable friend who visited the Night Court far too frequently." Jurian's eyebrows rose.

"So you were the one who snuck away with her in the middle of the night to have romantic sex?" Jurian guessed, his smile lengthening. I tilted my head at him.

"No," I said quickly, "Well, yes, but no. It was complicated." Jurian snorted again.

"It doesn't sound that complicated," Jurian chortled. My face hardened.

"Our story is not important." And when I said it, I felt a pang in my gut. _Our_ story. There was no _our_ , I tried to remind myself. We were nothing. Yet, at the same time, we were everything, I thought. I killed her, I killed her after everything she had done for me. After everything we had done to each other. I murdered her. I let her die.

"Whatever you say, Tamlin," Jurian sniggered. My eyes narrowed on him.

"Its history, Jurian," I told him, my voice firm. "Everything between us is history."

~*~ discidium ~*~

 **Kind've a boring part to stop this chapter but I haven't exactly planned how I'm going to transition into the next scene so uh, here you go. I need some reviews, please. Like, I love reviews. So review. It takes like two seconds to share your opinion.**

P.S. I have a few other stories I am writing at the moment. One being a prequel of Rhysand's parents (The First Story) and a post-story to do with Azriel that does not follow this story line (A Wind of Whisps and Shadows)


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